Return of Faith
by DeadRich18
Summary: Long ago, Angels came to Remnant and brought with them enlightenment. They spread faith and hope across the world before returning to the stars. The people prospered under the faith, then came the Heretic King. Now the faith is outlawed, its members hunted as criminals, but hope remains. In hidden places, the faithful gather and pray to their God, awaiting the return of His Angels.
1. Prologue: Hidden Faith

**I do not own RWBY or Warhammer 40,000, only my original characters.**

 **Hey guys! Sixth story! You all know I am a huge Warhammer fan, but you might also know I have never written a Warhammer story. That ends today! Finally, after months of brainstorming, I've got the focus down, the changes set, and the drive to write!**

 **I had a lot of fun writing this, and am happy to say that it will no longer be a one-shot! After seeing the overwhelming desire to read more, I started working on another chapter. Also, the story has been re-titled as Return of Faith, to better fit with what I have planned for it.**

 **I am so happy you enjoyed it so much, and for those have yet to read it, I hope you like it. Onto the story!**

* * *

 **Return of Faith**

 **** **Prologue:** **Hidden Faith**

It was a busy day in the city of Vale, but such is to be expected. The Vytal Festival fast approaching, and the people were busying themselves in preparation for it. Store owners readied special merchandise, volunteer workers set up decorations, and freshly arrived tourists filed out of cruise liners to experience all that the city had to offer them. The sidewalks were crowded with people going about their business or taking in the sights of this new city. Among this throng of bodies, a small figure, wearing a bright red hood, tried her best not to let her anxiety get the better of her.

Ruby Rose was never a big fan of crowds; they made her nervous. She caught herself saying "excuse me" and "pardon me" every time she passed someone on her way since she stepped out of the Beacon ferry airship. There were so many people out today, so many strangers. It was nothing like her home back on Patch where everyone knew each other, and you could actually see where you were walking instead of just the back of the person in front of you.

Thankfully, the young Huntress-in-training wouldn't have to stay a part of the throng for much longer. An alleyway was coming up, one distinguished from others by the street mural on the building next to it. It depicted an artist's stylized rendition of Vale's last king, heroically thrusting his sword forward, toward the future.

Ruby glared at the dead tyrant's likeness from beneath her hood before ducking into the alley. Glad to be free of the crowd she stretched out her arms, reveling in having the space to do so after spending almost two hours being pushed around by a current of moving bodies. Her little celebration completed, Ruby headed down the alleyway.

It led her into a maze of backstreets and dead-ends that ran through much of Vale's commercial district. A network of hidden intersections and condemned buildings colorfully known as the Back Alley. Many people were ignorant that the Back Alley even existed and most who did know liked to pretend it didn't, for one reason or another. It wasn't the worst place in Vale, but it definitely wasn't one of the better places either. It was the territory of the Golden Crowns, after all.

But the Back Alley was more than just a gang's playground, as Ruby had learned some months ago, before she was accepted into Beacon Academy. Back then, she had been wary of the Back Alley, afraid she would get lost and never find a way out. She knew the way far better now, no longer requiring the help of another. She followed the hidden signs left by the Golden Crowns, letting them guide her path through the maze.

Eventually, the signs led Ruby into a dead-end full of garbage cans and dumpsters, all of them covered in the yellow crown mark of the Golden Crowns gang. Most would assume they had made a wrong turn – she certainly did the first time she came here – but that was the whole point of it.

Ruby went over to a dumpster resting against the left wall of the dead-end. It looked no different from the others: same shape, same color, same gang graffiti, or so it seemed. Apart from the yellow crowns, there was another symbol painted on the dumpster, small and unnoticeable, but there all the same.

A black lion's head.

Ruby did a quick look around to ensure she was alone, then carefully knocked five times on the side of the dumpster. Not a second later, a hidden slide slid open and a pair of blue eyes looked out at her. Ruby fished out the necklace she kept hidden beneath her blouse, presenting the icon that dangled from its string to the man in the dumpster. He regarded it for a moment, then slammed the slide closed. A few seconds later, after numerous locks were undone, the side of the dumpster slide open and a Golden Crown gang member warmly greeted Ruby.

"Welcome back, sister Rose," he said with a bow of his head and she returned the gesture. The gatekeeper stepped back to allow Ruby to enter before quickly, and quietly, locking the hidden door behind her. She pulled down her hood once the coast was clear and thanked the gatekeeper before moving on. The dumpster hid a hole in the wall behind it, leading into an old building, forgotten and abandoned, or so it seemed from the outside. Ruby had to duck her as she passed through the hole, coming upon a sight that both warmed and broke her heart each time she saw it.

Despite what the council liked to say, Vale had a significant number of homeless people. When it was announced that Vale would be hosting the Vytal Festival, the council wanted to make the city appear as a utopia to the other Kingdoms, where everyone was happy and well-off. They achieved this through force, driving the homeless out of the public areas to make way for the tourists here to experience the Festival. Most went to the Kingdom run homeless shelters, but the truly dispossessed were forced to find sanctuary in other, hidden places, like here.

Dozens of people occupied the interior of the building, human and faunus both, all of them homeless. They rested on dirty sleeping bags and old mattresses. Their clothes were worn and filthy and some coughed violently with sickness. In a corner, a rag-clad mother bounced her baby boy in her arms, trying to quiet his crying. A Golden Crown knelt beside her and offered the woman a pacifier which she graciously accepted. The baby's wailing stopped.

Three more Golden Crowns milled about this floor of the building, performing similar acts of kindness. They handed out bags of food or fresh water, talked with them, and treated them as people rather than a nuisance, like the Vale council did. Among the gangsters and homeless were others, people like Ruby who had either arrived before her or from different routes. Like the Golden Crowns, some of these people aided the poor souls that took sanctuary here. A woman handed out fresh blankets to the eldest of the vagrants and her young daughter gave out snack bags while a familiar shopkeeper gifted small toys to the few children that were here.

One of the children, a small faunus boy with dog ears, saw Ruby and ran over to her. "Ruby!" He cried out as he embraced the older girl's legs. Ruby smiled and returned the affectionate gesture with one of her own, rustling the boy's black hair and making him giggle. He pushed himself away to escape from the Huntress-in-training's assault and looked up at her with a big smile, revealing a gap in his top teeth.

"How are you doing, Ollie?" she asked him, then with a mischievous smile added, "Haven't been causing any trouble, have you?"

Oliver, or Ollie as Ruby called him, shook his head in a childishly enthusiastic fashion. "Nope!" He said, popping the 'p' at the end. "I haven't caused any trouble."

A nearby Crown gave a snort of laughter, "Hasn't caused _us_ any trouble you mean, kid." This made a few of the others present chuckle and Ruby to raise an eyebrow at the orphan, who looked away from the older girl with a mockingly innocent look on his face.

"Ollie?" She said with gentle seriousness. "You know it's a sin to lie, right?"

The faunus' face soured when she said that, and he pouted. "I didn't do nothing wrong, just pulled some pranks on some dumb heretics," He grumbled, kicking at the floor dejectedly, "They said Vale was better now… without the Church."

That made Ruby frown, and the Golden Crown to let out another laugh. "You should have seen it, Red." He walked over to Ollie and gave the boy a slap on the back, stumbling him a bit. "This big guy right here, he made 'em regret saying that bull. 'It's in my hair! Get it out, get it out!' Hehe, frickin' classic."

"Whilst it is just to correct those who mock our Church, we must remember that they speak out of ignorance, not hate," another voice commented. "They know not what they say, for they have been deceived by the servants of the Tyrant into believing his lies are truth."

Everyone turned and showed respect to the speaker as he entered, crossing their hands against their chests in the symbol of the faith. Those who stood went to their knees while those sitting just bowed their heads low.

"Rise, my friends," He commanded gently. "I would rather see your faces than the tops of your heads."

They did as was asked of them and looked upon their shepherd. Father Carmine was a stout man, reminiscent of a certain mustached professor back in Beacon, but of a much humbler disposition. His clothing reflected that, and he wore only a simple brown robe and sandals. The good father was also bald and without any facial hair to speak of. The only truly distinct feature to him were the red prayer beads hanging from his neck, but even these were just made of simple wood.

Two tough looking Golden Crown gang members stood close behind him, armed and very mean looking. They were a stark contrast to the kind priest they were tasked with protecting, scowling while he smiled. He had no real need of them now that he was here, but they refused to let the good father out of their sight, he was the whole reason this place existed after all.

Father Carmine's warm gaze traveled across the room, acknowledging every soul present with an inviting smile. As his eyes fell on Ruby, the young Huntress-to-be wrapped her hand around the icon hanging freely from her neck and smiled back. Once he had finished, the priest raised up his arms as if to accept an embrace. "The love and glory of our Lord be with you."

"And also, with you," intoned all who were present.

He lowered his arms. "It is good to see you all again, my friends," He said to them, relief and gratitude in his voice. "I had feared, with all the chaos afflicting our dear city lately, that some of you would be unable to attend this week's service." His smile grew a bit. "I am overjoyed to see that my fear was misplaced."

"We would never miss your service, Father," said the mother with the blankets, earning nods and sounds of agreement from the others.

Father Carmine nodded at that. "All the same Martha, I am glad you all could make it." He then turned and began to walk away, his guards right behind him. "Let us begin."

Almost as one, everyone went to follow the priest and his guards. A tiny hand tugged at the hem of Ruby's combat skirt, and she looked down to see Oliver starring up at her. "Sit next to me, okay?" he said and Ruby smiled.

"Okay." She answered, and Oliver took Ruby's hand and led the older girl into the group of people.

The pace of the procession was slow, but deliberate. Unlike the sidewalks of Vale, there was no impatient rush, no insistent desire to reach one's destination as soon as possible. It was calm, it was orderly, and it didn't make her feel like a sardine in a can. Moreover, it was quiet, a welcomed change to what she had to deal with on her way here. It wasn't that Ruby hated loud noises, learning how to kill Grimm wasn't a necessarily quiet thing, but there was just something so annoying about the dine of the big city. Everything had to be louder than everything else.

They followed Father Carmine outside, into a sort of courtyard area. There were more Golden Crowns out here, standing around and talking with each other until they saw the priest. Some stood straighter when they saw him, others made the symbol of the faith with their hands or uttered greeting prayers to him and his retinue. Ruby still found it incredible how the father had changed these men so radically. Her partner Wiess would have her believe that such people were just thieves and cutthroats, incapable of change, but Father Carmine had proven otherwise. Those who had once prowled the Back Alley now defended it from unwanted intrusion, and guided welcomed visitors to their destination. It was like her dad told her, 'faith brings out the best in us'.

If only the rest of the world understood that…

Ruby's mood soured a little from that particular thought, and only grew worse when they reached the other end of the courtyard and a metal cellar door. One of the Golden Crowns stepped forward and knocked five times against the doors. After a moment, a single knock sounded in return and the gangster pulled the door open. Another Golden Crown stepped out, gesturing for Father Carmine to enter. The good father thanked him and descended the cellar steps with his procession close behind.

It was a narrow descent, and they had to walk in single-file. Oliver took his place ahead of Ruby, moving down the stairs with the ease of one who had made this trip many times already. He hopped from step to step, moving in a sort of zig-zag pattern, making a game out of the whole thing. It was cute and distracted Ruby from her thoughts.

The stairway eventually emptied out into a large basement decorated with holy items and symbols. Scores of candles illuminated the room in gentle light and sweet-smelling incense filled the air. Taking up a great deal of space was a collection of folding chairs divided into two sections with about seven rows of four chairs each. They were faced away from the emerging group, toward the far end of the basement where a table and hanging banner could be seen. The table was nothing special, though the same could not be said for the book resting on it, nor for the banner that hung behind it.

Father Carmine made his way up to the table, leaving his guards to stand ready at the foot of the stairs. As he reached the table, everyone had already made it to their seats. Oliver led Ruby to the front left row and the two, all but dragging the teenager along. They found hymnal pamphlets on the seats, which they took before sitting. Ruby just managed to take a quick peek inside before Father Carmine's voice filled the room.

"All rise," he said, now behind the table. All present rose from their seats. "O, Heavenly Father, hear our prayers. We gather in this hidden place today to offer you our worship, so that you may know that we have not forgotten the lessons your Angels imparted onto us."

"We remember you, O Lord," recited his followers.

"We gather in this hidden place today to offer you our eternal thanks, for sending us your Angels to visit wrath upon the daemons that infest our world and for the illumination they brought to us, so very long ago."

"We thank you, O Lord."

"We gather in this hidden place today to offer you our faith, for we await the day when you will send your Angels to us again, so that they may burn away the corruption that has settled in their absence."

"We await you, O Lord."

"We gather in this hidden place today to offer you our love, for you are the true father of Mankind and it is right for children to love their parent."

"We love you, O Lord."

Father Carmine spread his arms wide and raised them to the ceiling, his head bowed. "May our humble prayers reach you, O Lord of Mankind, and may you smile warmly upon us," He lowered his hands and brought them to his chest, crossing them into the likeness of the two-headed eagle proudly portrayed on the banner behind him. "The Emperor protects."

Ruby crossed her hands over her chest in the sign of the Aquila as everyone repeated the priest's ending phrase, "The Emperor protects," and then filled the basement with the peaceful sound of hymns.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

"May the God-Emperor be with you all."

"And also, with you."

"Go in peace," and with that, the service ended. As Carmine's flock departed from their hidden chapel some approached the father to thank him for the service or to ask about what the next one would be about. One couple, each wearing an engagement ring, even asked him if he could perform their wedding ceremony. It was a request that, after the clapping died down, he had happily accepted.

He felt such pride for his flock. They lived in a society that would see them condemned for their faith, but they would not let the fear of punishment control them. They bravely sought him out, despite the risks, to lead them in their worship of the one true God.

He closed his eyes and offered a silent prayer of thanks to the God-Emperor, for blessing them with such righteous courage.

"Father Carmine," He opened his brown eyes to see silver ones staring at him. Ruby Rose made the sign of the Aquila in greeting and said, "I really liked today's sermon."

Carmine smiled and repeated the gesture with a grateful nod. "I am pleased to hear you enjoyed it, Ruby," he said, then noticed something. "I see young Oliver isn't with you."

Ruby shook her head as she lowered her arms. "I asked him to head back up without me," she said, then hesitated. He saw her left hand go to the small Aquila pendant she kept around her neck.

Carmine frowned and placed a hand on the child's shoulder. "What is wrong, Ruby?"

She fidgeted nervously, "It's kind of… You see I…" She was struggling to find the proper words. Carmine removed his hand from her shoulder and went over to the rows of seats. The priest took hold of two chairs and dragged them over so that he and Ruby might sit down and talk.

Ruby accepted the chair with a quiet "thank you" and sat down in it, her posture rigid. Carmine smiled at her reassuringly, "Relax, Ruby, you have nothing to fear. Whatever you wish to say, only the Emperor and I shall hear." He gestured for Turk and Malach to leave, and after a moment of hesitation they obeyed and closed the door behind them, leaving just the two of them. "Now, what is troubling you, my child?"

"It's my teammates," she blurted out, then blushed at her own forthrightness.

"Your teammates?" Carmine asked. "Has something happened to them?"

"No – I mean, yes – I-I mean…" She struggled for a moment, then took in a deep breath. "Last week, we found out that Blake – you remember Blake?" Carmine nodded, recalling when Ruby first spoke to him about her time at Beacon Academy. "Well, we found out that she used to be part of this… really bad group. When we found out, she ran away, and we went looking for her.

"We spent the whole weekend looking all over Vale for her, but we couldn't find her. Weiss was certain Blake was still a part of the Whi – of the group and wouldn't stop ranting about how Blake was a criminal. Then we found her and Weiss…" She paused, looking down at her lap.

"Did she attack Blake?" Carmine asked, concerned that there had been some sort of fight between them.

Ruby shook her head, not meeting the priest's gaze. "No," she answered, her voice slightly wobbly. "She forgave her! Weis said she didn't care anymore about Blake's past and that we'd be there for her whenever she needed us." Carmine's frown deepened, but before he could say anything, Ruby continued her story.

"I was so happy!" She said, and Carmine heard the tremor in her voice. "I was happy because everything was back to the way it was. Weiss accepted Blake for who she was and Team RWBY was back together. Everything was great!" She paused, trying to collect herself, then added, "It gave me hope."

"Hope?" Carmine repeated, confused by what she meant. Then his eyes widened in understanding.

"I-I thought that maybe, if they could look past Blake's past, maybe I could tell them about my faith." She explained, "I thought they would accept me too. I mean, if they could accept someone who used to be a terrorist they shouldn't have any problem with accepting a follower of the Emperor, right?"

Carmine reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Ruby's shoulder. "Did you tell them?" He asked her, tone worried. There was a reason he held his sermons down here, away from prying eyes. If Ruby told them about her faith…

Much to his relief, Ruby shook her head. "No," she answered. "I was about to, a few days ago. But the day I was going to tell them, the professors found out that another student was a member of the faith and expelled him before handing him over to the police. When we heard about it, the things they said were just… Oh, Emperor!" Anything else she might have said was forgotten by the young Huntress-to-be as she buried her face in her hands and cried.

Carmine removed his hand, not prepared for her tears – though he should have been. He brought it back up and patted her on the shoulder to try and comfort the girl. He did not speak, it was not his place to, but he offered what reassurance he could all the same. After several minutes, Ruby's crying died down and she finally looked up at the priest, her expression that of bloodshot heartbreak.

"They called us lunatics, Father," She said dejectedly. "Weiss and Blake, they called us murdering zealots, mindless fanatics who 'can't accept that the world is better off without them'. And everybody _agreed_ with them! Even Yang!"

That last part shocked Carmine. Like Ruby, Yang had grown up as a member of the faith, though she did not regard it with the same level of importance that Ruby or their parents did. But for her to condone such injustice against other members of her faith, it was beyond worrying. Had she forsaken the Emperor's Light?

"The only one who spoke up about the whole thing was Jaune, and he got detention for it!" Her head drooped again as she sagged in her chair. "I know they're wrong, but it hurts so much knowing that they think that way about us. What should I do, Father?"

Carmine was quiet for a moment, considering his words. "We are a persecuted people, Ruby, hated and feared by those who do not understand our ways." He took her hands into his own and looked her in the eye, "But we must take heart in knowing that their hate is the result of ignorance. They scorn and fear because they are told to, because they do not know the truth.

"When the Angels return, your friends will see the error of their ways, as will the whole of Remnant." Carmine smiled when he saw that flicker in Ruby's eyes. He saw it every time he talked about the Angels. "When that day comes, and true faith is returned to Remnant, your friends will repent their heretical ways and join us in the Emperor's embrace."

Ruby sniffed then smiled a little. "You really think so?"

He nodded. "You've told me much about your friends, Ruby," he told her, "and they sound like good people. I have no doubt that they will understand, when the time comes. Until then, we must be patient," he removed his hand from the girl's shoulder. "The Emperor rewards those who wait."

Ruby's smile grew, her expression one of renewed conviction. "Thank you, Father."

"Emperor be with you, Ruby Rose," he performed the sign of the Aquila, which Ruby reciprocated.

"And also, with you, Father Carmine." The two of them stood up after that, but only Ruby walked over to the exit. The priest watched the young girl open the door, allowing his two guards back into the room, before ascending the stairs back outside. When he couldn't hear her footsteps anymore, he let out a sigh.

"Oh, God-Emperor, look over your daughter Ruby Rose." The prayer was quiet but echoed in the stone confines of the basement chapel, earning looks from the two Golden Crowns sharing the space with him.

"Father?" Turk asked, but Carmine waved it off.

"It's nothing," He said and walked over to the right wall of the room. There was another door here, leading into his private chambers. "I wish to be alone for a while, leave me." He heard Turk start to say something, but Malach shushed him and the two promised to return when he needed them before heading up the stairs after Ruby.

Once alone, he opened the door and stepped inside. The room was small and spartan in appearance. A bed and chest rested on one side of the room with a desk and chair on the other. The only decorations were the candles lighting the room and the small Aquila totem sitting on the desk.

Closing the door behind him, Carmine went over to the chest and opened it. He shifted through its contents until he reached its bottom where a small box sat with a roaring black lion's head emblazoned on its lid.

Carefully, reverently, Carmine lifted the box out of the chest and placed it on the desk before sitting himself down in front of it. He opened it gently, ensuring no sound squeaked from its hinges as he reached inside and pulled out the treasured contents held inside.

The first was a letter from a dear friend, long since passed into the Emperor's realm. He looked at the letter, folded up as it was, and was tempted to open it up and read it. He had read it many times, but the pain never dulled, and the pride never faded. He placed it down on the desk.

The second was an Aquila pendant, made from solid gold and hanging from a chain of silver. It was a finely crafted thing, not like the ones his flock wore, fashioned from scrap metal and wood. It was a relic from before the Great War, from when the faithful did not need to hide in the dark and temples to the Emperor could be found in every town. Like the letter, it was given to him by a dead friend, the same friend in fact, but he could not bear to wear it, not yet. Only when the faithful no longer needed to hide themselves would he don the relic. He placed it beside the letter.

The third and final treasure was an old photograph, and what it portrayed was something truly breathtaking. It too was a gift from his friend. It showed a massive mural, one of incredible detail and skill. He could tell it was ancient, even from just the photograph, because it depicted something that unbelievers and heretics decried as mere legend.

It depicted Angels.

Giants clad in armor of black, gold, and red, it showed the Emperor's Angels slaughter their way through an unending tide of Grimm. They cut into the horde with fanged swords and wicked axes that carved through the Grimm like they were nothing. The beasts could do nothing against the Angels' holy might. Some tried to flee but were struck down. Black and gold helmets concealed the faces of every Angel beneath a façade of snarling fury, all save one.

He stood at the forefront of the battle, wielding a beautiful sword that glowed with divine power. He wore no helmet and his face was painted into a calm expression that contrasted starkly with the ferocious helms worn by his kin. But what grabbed Carmine's attention the most, like it always did when he looked at this photo, were the Angel's eyes.

Those piercing silver eyes…

Carmine just stared at them for a while, lost in their intensity. After minutes of staring, he sighed and put the photo back inside the box along with the pendent and letter. He shut the lid and placed it back in the chest, covering it with his clothes and closing the chest. Another moment was spent blowing out the candles before Father Carmine left his room and made his way back outside.

 _One day,_ he thought to himself. _One day, they will return and all of Remnant will know the glory of the Emperor's Light once again!_

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

 **Author's Note: Such mystery and intrigue! So many questions! This was a huge joy to write, especially after nothing but Grimm Heir for so long, (I love that story, but it has just been a BITCH to work on recently). As I said, I am turning this into a multi-chaptered story, so get ready for some crazy stuff, because the Grimm and White Fang won't be the only 'bad guys' around. Also, though this is a Space Marine story, I have decided not to include Primaris Marines. I like them a lot, and really wanted to use them, but there is still very little we know about them fluff wise and would just prove too difficult to write. Plus, the lore for my chapter is that after the Indomitus Crusade their subsector got attacked by Chaos, so they wouldn't have time to go check out some random planet with a broken moon.**

 **Furthermore, I want everyone to know there will be SIGNIFICANT changes to established RWBY lore, including the Grimm's origin, the two brothers (who don't exist, they're dumb), the maidens, relics, and the meaning behind Silver Eyes. That's right, I am actually going to be going into what it means to have silver eyes, and while it may not be able to freeze Grimm in place when you see a redhead get killed, they will still hold a significant amount of importance in terms of lore**

 **Along with all of that, if you want to learn more about my Space Marine chapter, the Black Lions, who will be in this fic, 40k Theories did a homebrew of the week for them. It covers their lore, but unfortunately nothing else, but you'll get to learn more about them as this story goes on.**

 **As Always: Please, Fav, Follow, and Review! Thank You!**

 **DeadRich18 Out!**


	2. Chapter 1: Discovery & Decision

**I do not own RWBY or Warhammer 40,000, only my original characters.**

 **I am so happy with how much people enjoyed Hidden Faith, so here is the next chapter of** _ **Return of Faith**_ **. That's right, title change! I had a ton of fun writing this chapter, though I do admit that I had to restart quite a few times, I love 40k, but all the techno-jargon involved always goes right over my head. Still, I am really happy with this chapter, and I hope you all will enjoy it.**

 **Also, I forgot to let you guys know, I commissioned Nemris over on DeviantArt to draw two characters from my space marine chapter and he did a damn good job on it, so check it out if you want.**

 **HEADS UP! I changed a crap ton with this chapter, replaced some stuff or rewrote it. I just felt like what I had first was just too rushed, so I went back and changed what I felt I needed to. I think it's better now but let me know what you guys think.**

* * *

 **Return of Faith**

 **Chapter One: Discovery & Decision**

The moon was shattered.

Though it had been two weeks since they first arrived in the system, the bridge crew of the _Solaire's Light_ still couldn't quite wrap their heads around that fact. No matter how many glances they shot the broken satellite, the magnitude of the sight still left them breathless and confused. Dead worlds were nothing new to them, but this was something different. None of the crew knew why, but they felt it in their souls. There was more to this.

The first piece of evidence to that was the fact that the world the shattered moon orbited was a garden world of pristine beauty. Its sapphire seas and emerald forests shown vividly from the observation deck of the _Solaire's_ bridge, filled with all sorts of creatures, according to the ship's auspex scans.

It should be a desolate wasteland, blasted into oblivion by the thousands of mountain sized chunks of debris sent plummeting into its surface when the moon was shattered, whenever that might have been. But there was no evidence of the world ever suffering such a bombardment and the sheer number of fragments floating in the invisible grip of the moon's gravitic pull made several deck hands think it never had.

On the bridge's observation deck, studying the sight before them, stood two figures. Their focus was not on the shattered moon however, but on the garden world that it orbited. The larger of the two, a man clad in sleek carapace armor beneath a dark coat, continuously shifted his attention between the planet and a data-slate he held. His companion in contrast, was wholly focused on the world, or more specifically, on the massive amount of psychic energy radiating from the world… and the strange tranquility of it.

"Have you sensed anything new, Kara?" The harsh, mechanical snarl that was her companion's voice jolted Kara Storrel out of her stupor. She looked over to him, but his gaze was fixed on the data-slate. "Have there been any… changes with the world?"

Kara shook her head and turned back to stare at the strange world. "No, Inquisitor. It is as calm as when we first arrived in the system."

Inquisitor Oscar Kress made a sound at that, rendered into a hard snarl by the stylized silver-skull respirator mask fixed to his face. Kara couldn't tell what the sound was supposed to represent, but she didn't need to. Her gifts told her that he was still skeptical of all this. She was too.

"And the song?" He asked, finally looking up from the data-slate to glare at the world.

"I hear it, but it has grown weak," Kara gave a resigned sigh. "It's a miracle we heard it at all. Had we not been where we were, I fear the song would have gone unheard, or worse, draw the attention of more malevolent forces."

He said nothing and returning to studying the data-slate. Silence filled the space between them.

She risked a glance at the device in the inquisitor's hands, curious. "Another report from the twins?"

"One that doesn't give me headaches, thank the Emperor," her lord answered with a relived sigh. His answer made the young psyker raise an eyebrow.

Yole and Yuria Lond were two of Kress' most trusted agents, having been with inquisitor long before Kara ever showed up. Master infiltrators, they had been on the planet's surface for the past twelve days gathering intelligence and forwarding it directly to the inquisitor's private cogitator terminal in his personal chambers onboard the _Solaire_. What reports the inquisitor allowed Kara to read had left the psyker curious, confused, and… unsettled.

"They've found more evidence of a former Imperial presence in the city called Vale," His fingers danced across the screen as he typed back a response before scrolling through the rest of the report. "A failed Ministorum mission probably, though they have confirmed the existence of multiple cults dedicated to the worship of the Emperor, so I suppose it wasn't a complete failure…" His voice trailed off and his fingers froze above the data-slate. Kara sensed his surprise and frowned.

Although she was the newest of Kress' retinue, she had quickly learned that little surprised the old man. In his centuries of service to the Golden Throne, he had seen and experienced much, and it had taught him to always expect the unexpected.

This planet, and whatever Yole and Yuria had found on its surface, had genuinely shocked him. It was the first time Kara had ever seen him surprised by something. It made her nervous. Inquisitors were not meant to be surprised, they were meant to eliminate surprises. But this damn world just didn't seem to understand that, apparently.

"Inquisitor Kress?" She reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, but stopped herself, knowing it was not her place to do so. She entertained the idea of probing his mind to find the identity of his shock but crushed the thought with the reality that such an intrusive course of action would end very poorly for her. Even his tolerance for psykers had its limits.

If he made any indication that he heard her, his hood and mask denied Kara the benefit of seeing it. Instead, he turned his back to the psyker and started walking away, his attention still held by the data-slate. Kara moved to follow him. "Captain!" He all but shouted, his mask distorting the word savagely. "Move us out of orbit and prepare for warp jump. We're leaving this system."

"What!?"

"Aye, Inquisitor!" The bridge lit up with activity as the captain relayed the order to the rest of the crew. Deck officers scurried across the bridge, ensuring everything was going smoothly as orderlies and servitors transmitted the order to other sections of the cruiser and moved the _Solaire's Light_ away from the planet.

Kara felt the planet's energies less and less the more distance they put between themselves and the world, but she was no longer paying attention to that. "Kress!" She jogged over to the inquisitor, now standing by the captain's command throne and looking over the organized chaos of the bridge. He turned to regard the young psyker, his cold blue eyes glaring at her. "Yole and Yuria are still down there! We can't just going to leave them there! They're going to-"

"Be quiet, Kara." Kress told her, his voice calm but carrying an underline of annoyance. She cringed as she realized she had overstepped her bounds and quickly obeyed the inquisitor's order. "Do not question me like that again in the presence of others."

Embarrassed, Kara bowed her head. "Your concerns are misplaced anyway," he replied, almost casually. "Yole and Yuria's orders are unchanged. They will continue to gather information on this world and its populace until our return." Kress then held out the data-slate for her to take. She scrolled through its contents, absorbing the knowledge reaped by the twins. Her master said nothing as she did this, gauging her reaction to what he was disclosing to her.

Kara's fingers froze, and her body went rigid when she came upon the document titled "Creatures of Grimm". She didn't even finish reading the first sentence before Kress took the data-slate back. She did not resist. Once the device was back with the inquisitor, Kara made the sign of the Aquila and muttered a prayer of purification to the Emperor. When she was finished, Kress made the subtle gesture for her to enter his mind, so they might speak in secret.

Still shaken, Kara responded as she had been trained to, giving him the equally subtle sign of acknowledgement, before entering her master's mind. Despite lacking any sort of psychic ability, the inquisitor's mind was a masterfully guarded thing. His memories and subconscious were completely closed off to her, blocked by centuries of psycho-conditioning and training. Only his current thoughts were open to the psyker, and only because he allowed it.

 _I share your concerns regarding this world, Kara_ , his mental voice was so different from his physical one. It was smooth, almost gentle. _If circumstances were different, I would declare_ Exterminatus _upon this world here and now._

 _Then why don't you?_ Kara asked, her fear tainting her thoughts. _You know what's down there, the planet is crawling with daemons! Its people are beyond saving at this point, Emperor knows how long they've been exposed to the taint. Killing them would be a mercy._

 _Ordinarily, yes, but this situation is anything but ordinary._ He brought forth the information provided to him by the twins' reports, specifically information regarding the people and the planet itself. Immediately, Kara understood what her master was getting at. Before she could protest, the psyker felt her master's mind close itself off to her. Understanding what he wanted from her, Kara begrudgingly removed herself from his thoughts. Kress then continued to speak.

"Remnant has proven itself to be a world that could either greatly benefit or threaten the Imperium," he said, both to her and to any of the bridge crew trying to eavesdrop on them. "As an inquisitor of the God-Emperor's Holy Inquisition, it is my sworn duty to uncover the truth and to use it to protect the Imperium of Man from foes both within and without." He took several steps forward, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed out into the void of space. "I will learn Remnant's secrets, I will unravel its mysteries, and only then will I pass judgement upon it.

"But do this, we will require assistance," he scrolled down on the data-slate, then handed it back to Kara. "And who better to aid us in this than those who first brought the Emperor's Light to Remnant?"

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

On the world below, the people of Remnant continued with the preparations for their Vytal Festival, completely ignorant to the attention they had garnered. Such was especially true in the Kingdom of Vale, the appointed host of the Festival and its famous battle tournament. There, the citizens worked with eager anticipation, stringing up banners or welcoming tourists from the other Kingdoms.

From the confines of Vale's capital city, Remnant appeared an incredibly unremarkable planet. To a casual observer, the world was indistinguishable from the thousands of other 'civilized' worlds that filled the Imperium. It was only when one left the safety of the city would they see Remnant as the Death World it truly was.

Yuria found such deception impressive. It spoke much of this world's rulers, their skill in manipulation and politicking, as well as what they considered priority. They did not want their citizens to have to worry about the daemons at their door, nor the criminals running rampant through their streets. They desired the masses to rejoice in the resolution of their history's greatest conflict, to be happy and complacent while monsters brayed and prowled just outside.

It was commendably manipulative.

"So, we are to remain here?" The agitated voice of her twin brother Yole drew Yuria out of her thoughts. "Continue with this mundane mission?" He never enjoyed 'quiet' operations.

Yuria smiled a little at her brother's irritation. The siblings sat opposite of each other in one of Vale's many restaurants. For nearly two weeks, the twins had been gathering information on this world and forwarding it back up to Kress in high orbit. They had learned so much about this strange planet, things both fascinating and terrible, things that many of the Holy Ordos would see censored and made forbidden to look upon by punishment of death.

Remnant had no idea how fortunate it was to have been discovered by Oscar Kress and not one of the Inquisition's more… zealous members.

Yuria answered her brother's question. "Yes, we are to continue gathering intelligence until the inquisitor's return." Her voice was sweet and demure but held a liar's edge to it. Many were those she had deceived with her voice, luring them into false safety before showing her true colors.

Her brother's voice was similar, though much deeper and far blunter than her own. "We are saboteurs, dear sister," he remarked in a low whisper. "We should be dismantling the fortresses of the Imperium's foes, assassinating heretic leaders and rebellious planetary governors, not scrounging through databanks on this backwater of a planet!" Yole let out an aggravated sigh and ran a hand through his white hair. "This is a job for Orbeck, not us."

Yuria smiled at her brother. "Tech priests are not known for their stealth, Orbeck especially," she reminded her brother. "He would not even think to hide what he is from these people – not that he could anyway."

Yole huffed, then grinned a bit. "It would be hard to hide those legs of his," he said.

"Not to mention the rest of him," The two shared a short laugh, then ceased as a waiter came along with their food. Few were the missions where they had the chance to sample local cuisines without fear of being poisoned. They had both ordered the establishment's most popular dish, a strange sandwich containing a slab of ground meat, a slice of dairy, and various vegetables and sauces. On side were deep-fried wedges cut from some starchy plant, heavily dosed in salt.

It was called a 'cheeseburger with fries' and was a planet-wide delicacy according to their findings, despite its less than healthy ingredients.

The two ate their meals in silence, enjoying the flavor of the food. In their service to Inquisitor Kress, both Yuria and Yole had attended feasts at the tables of lofty nobles and boisterous Imperial Guard generals, tasted many delicious and exotic dishes that cost more than a guardsman earned in five years. Yet, there was a pleasant simplicity to the cheeseburger that quickly saw it become a favorite of Yuria's.

Her brother enjoyed them too.

They ate quickly but savored every bite. Individuals of their occupation learned early that time was a thing not to be wasted regardless of their mission's nature. Yuria allowed herself some indulgence however, taking smaller bites and slightly longer pauses between swallowing.

"I meant what I said, dear sister," Yole said after wolfing down several fries. "I hold the greatest respect for Kress, but our talents are wasted here. Tell me you do not agree."

Yuria did not answer right away, still occupied with chewing her food. She swallowed, then spoke. "The situation here is delicate, dear brother. Remnant is a strange and troubling world, filled with all manner of insanity and potential." She placed her nearly finished sandwich back on its plate and fixed her brother with a stern look. "Every scrap of information we find is valuable. The more we know, the better Kress can determine what judgement to render upon this world."

"It's covered in daemons, dear sister," Yole reminded seriously. "Actual, Throne-damned daemons! I may know little about the Warp, but even I can see that burning this world to cinders is the best option."

"Then why did they not destroy Remnant when they first came here?" Yuria asked, reminding her brother of their latest discovery. "If the Warp's taint is so strong on this world, then why have we seen no references of the Dark Gods in any of the archives we searched? No, dear brother, this is not just some daemonic incursion," he snorted at how she spoke of it so mundanely, "something else is going on here."

The two were silent for a while, their eyes locked and unblinking. Then Yole leaned forward, "Is that why Kress left for Salem? To petition their aid in retaking this world?"

Yuria offered her brother a playful smile. "Thanks to us, Kress knows the Emperor's Word has reached this world and that those who brought it here are still remembered by Remnant's faithful." She picked up one of her last fries, staring intently at it between her thumb and index finger. "Their return will ignite the fires of faith to spread across this world once more."

"You overestimate these people, dear sister," Yole said, leaning back in his seat. "They are complacent, weak, and lack any resolve to fight. Even those 'Huntsmen'" He rolled his eyes at the title, "fight only if it benefits them financially."

Yuria plopped the fry into her mouth, chewed briefly, then swallowed. "You are too unfair, dear brother," she told him. "We have only seen what Vale's people are like, yet you assume the whole planet to be like them?" She giggled. He growled.

"The Emperor's Word gives strength to those who hear it," Yuria whispered, her voice taking on the tone of a Scholas drill abbess reprimanding a misbehaving child. "Remnant's faithful have been persecuted and hunted down for nearly a century. They are blamed for the Great War and made outlaws for following the one True God," She picked up the remains of her cheeseburger, "But they persevered regardless of their government's best efforts. Such resilience will prove useful to us, as will their devotion."

Yuria took a bite from her meal. Yole grumbled, "It will make the occupation of this place easier, I suppose." A strange look crossed over his face then, making Yuria halt in her chewing.

Yuria knew that look.

She swallowed her bite. "What are you planning, dear brother?" she said, curious to what thoughts swirled inside her brother's head.

"My deear sister," he began, his lips curling into a predator's grin. "I merely thought of a way for us to fulfil our mission, while also providing Kress with a warm reception upon his return."

A serpentine smile crossed Yuria's features, and she took another bite out of the cheeseburger.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

The Beacon Academy library was customarily quiet. Earlier in the day, many students had been preparing for the start of the second semester, studying for future tests or finding research material for papers yet to be announced. It was late now; the sky was dark and most of the students had since returned to their dorm rooms to get some sleep.

Team RWBY had been among those students who had made use of the library earlier in the day, though they used it to play a game of _Conquest of Remnant_ instead of studying for classes. It had been fun, and they even met one of Sun's teammates, Neptune, who joined their game when Blake left suddenly. Thing is, when they had finished playing and returned to their dorm room, they had neglected to clean up their boardgame.

So now Ruby Rose strode through the library, intent on retrieving her boardgame before it was too late. She headed straight for their table, wasting no time in her quest, knowing she would have to wait until tomorrow after classes to get it if she didn't find it now. If she did that though, there was a chance it would be taken by someone else, or worse, found by Goodwitch and thrown out.

It was a chance Ruby wasn't willing to risk!

"OMPH!" "GAH!"

Focused on her goal as she was, the leader of Team RWBY just failed to notice someone moving out from behind a bookshelf corner and right into her path. She felt her head connect with metal before suddenly finding herself sitting on her backside. Groaning, she rubbed the spot on her head where she hit the metal, wincing a little.

"Ruby!" A familiar voice exclaimed. "Sorry I didn't see you there." She opened her eyes and was greeted by an apologetic Jaune Arc.

Like her, the leader of Team JNPR had fallen, but quickly stood back up and offered his hand to her. Ruby took it. "Thanks, I'm okay," she said, and Jaune nodded with a relived smile. He then bent down to retrieve a familiar cardboard box. "My game!"

Jaune held it out for her to take, which she did. "Yeah, I saw you guys forgot it, so I was going to take it back to your dorm when I finished studying!"

"You were studying? By yourself?" Ruby said, actually a little surprised. Jaune had never been that much of a studier, often relying on his teammates for help. Ruby was a bit the same, sometimes.

Jaune scratched the back of his head and gave a weak chuckle. "Yeah, well, given how bad I did last semester, I thought it would be a good idea to put in some effort this time." He frowned a bit. "Got to be ready for the participation exam, you know?"

Ruby nodded. In order to qualify for participation in the Vytal Tournament, teams had to take an exam to prove they were ready for it. It was primarily battle training and teamwork exercises, showing off how well teams could fight together and handle combat in different environments, but there was a written exam too. Ruby really didn't know why they needed a written exam, maybe to show the students were learning more than just how to fight, but she did know that it was just as important to pass as the combat tests.

"Yeah, I should probably start studying for that too," though Emperor knows she didn't want to. Not wanting to linger on studying, Ruby changed the subject, "So, you want to head back to the dorm with me?"

"Sure." And the two leaders retreated out from Beacon's archive of knowledge before the librarian locked it up for the night.

It was as the two walked out the library doors that Ruby realized this was the chance she had been waiting for! Since her talk with Father Carmine, Ruby had wanted to speak with Jaune. He had been the only one to speak out against the unjust persecution enacted against the Emperor's faithful, and she wanted to know why.

She hadn't had the opportunity until now. During the break, she and Yang had gone back to Patch to see their dad and Zwei. Ruby had enjoyed the time off from classes and homework, and their dad had been happy to have them back in the house. He had also been happy to hear that Father Carmine was doing well in Vale and had not been discovered by the police. Ruby still couldn't believe the priest had been friends with her parents. Another example of the Emperor's Hand at work, just like right now.

"So, Jaune," Ruby began, earning the blonde's attention. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Sure, Ruby," he said with a pleasant smile. "What is it?"

Ruby quickly checked to make sure they were alone. "It's about what happened last semester. You know, with that one student?"

Jaune's smile fell as he instantly knew what she meant. "Oh," he said, dejected. "You thought it was stupid of me to say something too?"

She was surprised by the slight bitterness in his voice and raised her hands to deny his question. "N-no, no, I didn't mean that. I-I was just… curious is all." He raised an eyebrow at that. "Y-you know, they're the worst of the worst, after all! Remember when Professor Oobleck talked about them he said they controlled Vale through fear and corruption, and started the Great War, and are just a bunch of crazy cultists." Ruby let out a nervous laugh. She had rehearsed this darn it, she could do this! "I just wanted to know why you… why you thought it wasn't fair. The way they treated him, I mean."

Jaune stared at her with conflicted eyes, then looked away with a sigh. He didn't answer her, or say anything for that matter, until they reached the stairwell. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, and beckoned Ruby to move underneath it. Recognizing this to mean he wanted to tell her something confidential, she followed his gesture with a nod, crouching to avoid bumping her head.

Jaune followed behind her, made one quick check to make sure no one else was there, then spoke.

"Ruby, I-" he paused for a second, unsure if he should continue before shaking his head and looking her dead in the eye. "Have you ever heard of the Paladins?"

Ruby tried to hide her surprise at the mention of Vale's order of holy knights. "I-I've heard a-a little about them," she stuttered out, still trying to keep up her façade of ignorant curiosity. "They were soldiers, right? Worked for the old Church?"

They were more than just soldiers. The Paladins of Vale had been the first and last of the great knightly orders. The sworn shield and sword of the Faith, it was their holy duty to guard Vale's faithful from both the Grimm and the heretic. They were honorable, pious, and highly skilled in battle. In a way, they were the Faith's equivalent to Huntsmen, only the Paladins did not fight for money or fame.

They fought for the Emperor, and for the safety of His people.

When the Great War ended, the last king of Vale– cursed be his name – had the Paladins' role in the conflict all but erased from history. They were wrongly remembered as 'corrupted' enforcers of a 'corrupted' religion, deserving nothing but scorn.

What did they have to do with Jaune speaking out?

"Yeah, kind of…" Jaune paused again, trying to find the right words. "Remember my great-great-grandfather? How I told you he fought in the War?" Ruby blinked. She vaguely remembered that Jaune mentioned the man when he showed her Crocea Mors for the first time. "Well… he was a member of the Paladins."

Ruby's eyes went wide, stunned. Jaune seemed to take her reaction as a bad sign and immediately started trying to stammer out an explanation. "B-b-but I'm not – I-I mean that doesn't mean I'm one of them! I-i-its just I grew up with stories a-about the Paladins, like how they protected the people and the Kingdom. N-n-not that I ever believed them! I jus-"

His fearful stuttering snapped Ruby out of her little stupor. "Jaune! Jaune!" she said, grabbing his face to cut off his rambling and make him focus on her. "It's alright, I'm not going to report you."

Jaune blinked, "Really?"

Ruby nodded, "Really."

Ruby then let go of his face and the Arc boy let out a massive sigh of relief and let himself slid down the side of stairwell wall. His fear was understandable, especially if his lineage was true. Jaune very well could be thrown in jail or put in one of those horrible reconditioning centers if his heritage was revealed. Then again, the same fate awaited Ruby and every member of the Faith, should they be discovered. Such was the risk they took to worship the one true God.

"The Paladins were the reason I wanted to become a Huntsman," Jaune admitted. "The stories my granddad told about the Paladins always had them saving villages and slaying Grimm, regardless of the peril. I wanted to be like that too, to be like my great-great-grandfather. A hero."

He looked over at Ruby then. "That's why I spoke out back then, about that student being expelled. I don't worship the Emperor, but I knew plenty of people back home who do, and they've never hurt anyone. They aren't the monsters the Kingdoms make them out to be, so when I saw that guy being treated like trash by everyone because he worshipped the Emperor I couldn't just… It didn't…" He trailed off, unable to properly voice his thoughts, but Ruby could figure it out for herself.

"You couldn't let it go," she said, taking a seat next to Jaune. "It didn't matter if he was a worshipper of the Emperor or not; you saw an innocent person being treated like a criminal for no good reason and couldn't let it stand." Ruby placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Just like a hero. Just like a Paladin."

Jaune was silent for a moment, then smiled and said. "I see you've gotten better at your pep-talks."

Ruby punched him in the arm good-naturedly, "shut up!" she giggled and Jaune laughed in return before standing up and offering a hand to help Ruby do the same. The two friends then left the secluded confines of the stairwell and headed back to their dorm rooms.

The walk back was quiet, but pleasant. Neither Jaune or Ruby felt it necessary to break the silence and so it persisted until they reached their destination. The two were just about to enter their respective rooms when Ruby made a split-second decision.

"Jaune!" She said, just as his hand gripped the doorknob. He looked back at her, and Ruby felt a slight blush color her cheeks. "I-if you ever want to talk about… _you know what_ ," She whispered that bit, knowing there were security cameras in the hall, "Some more, just give me a call. It was… nice."

Jaune smiled and gave a nod of his head. "Definitely. And, uh, thanks for listening." He opened his door and went inside, waving goodbye to her. "Goodnight, Ruby!"

Ruby waved back, "goodnight, Jaune," then turned and entered her own room to present to her waiting teammates the boardgame they had forgotten.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

 **Author's Note: So… quite a bit of changes made to the original, huh? I'm sorry if any of you liked the original, and thought it was good too, but the more I thought about it the more I realized it was a mediocre first chapter. It focused too much on the Inquisitor and the battle scene, (something I am really bad at), and nothing else. There was more I wanted to do with Yole and Yuria, but I felt it wouldn't have flowed as well with the battle. So, I got rid of the battle and replaced with another scene, one I was going to use in chapter two but felt would work better here instead.**

 **Next chapter will have the battle, but I am probably going to rewrite it significantly, might even change the point of view. Actually, on the topic of battles, I am looking for a beta reader for the battle scenes in this story to make sure they are the best they can be.**

 **Now, I feel like this was WAY better than the original chapter with much better flow, more intrigue, and better set up for what I have planned for this story.**

 **I hope you all enjoyed the changes to this chapter and are eager for the next installment.**

 **As Always: Please, Fav, Follow, and Review! Thank You!**

 **DeadRich18 Out!**


	3. Chapter 2: Revelation and Retribution

**I do not own RWBY or Warhammer 40,000, only my original characters.**

 **ARRRRGGGGHHH! GOD-EMPEROR DAMNIT! Of course! Once I decide not to use Primaris in my story, and once I had actually finished the Space Marine scene, GW shows off Primaris Calgar and bodyguard! Dear Emperor, do they look awesome, and I could have given my chapter master a Primaris makeover. I don't care what you all say about the Primaris, their armor is freaking awesome to look at.**

 **Okay, with that little rant out of the way, how you all been? Sorry this took so long, Finals have been a pain and I was trying (and failing) to work on Grimm Heir more. Still, very happy with the way this turned out. Way better than my first version of this, and hopefully with a better battle scene. Big shout out to my beta reader Pinkpower3612, he really helped me out here.**

 **Couldn't think of a better chapter title, sorry!**

 **Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!**

 **PLEASE NOTE, THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN EDITED FROM ITS ORIGINAL POST.**

 **Return of Faith**

 **Chapter Two: Revelation and Retribution (EDITED)**

* * *

Peace. That is what Salem means: peace.

A name from one of the thousands of long dead cultures of Old Earth, in the ages when humanity had yet to leave its cradle and spread itself across the stars. With such powerful meaning behind it, a place bearing the name of Salem must surely be a peaceful and calm place.

And it is true, when one looks upon the world of Salem within the Evangela subsector, they see a celestial sphere of calm seas and vast forests, of majestic mountain ranges and vibrant valleys. Truly, Salem appears every bit the peaceful paradise its name implies.

This is a lie.

War ruled on Salem. Feudal kingdoms bickered and fought upon its surface, sending forth armies of knight and men-at-arms to do battle in the name of their kings and queens. Wars were won and lost each year, political alliances forged then broken, and noble houses rose and fell like the tides. Whenever peace was achieved it was short lived, for the kings and queens would soon find new reason to reignite the flames of conflict. Such was life on Salem.

But in recent years, the kings and queens had lessened their squabbling. Alliances formed held true and battles became few and far between as the local lords had their peasants work the fields rather than serve as fodder in their armies. Knights patrolled the edges of the woods and honed their skills in the training yards. It seemed as if peace had finally come to Salem.

This too is a lie.

This was no peace, only the preparation of dark times yet to come. In the keeps and castles across the planet blacksmiths forged countless weapons and sets of armor while fletchers and bowyers made bows and arrows by the thousands. Whole villages were drafted and trained to fight, and hundreds of aspiring young nobles and promising squires were given knighthood. And as the nights grew longer and the moon came closer and closer to the sun, armies were assembled, and towns were abandoned. Foes became friends as rival lords joined their forces into vast hosts to face the nearing darkness.

For years, they prepared and made ready. With armies numbering in the hundreds of thousands and enough supplies to last them through any siege, the people of Salem stood ready to face what came for them.

And it still was not enough, for the Blood Eclipse shone high in Salem's sky now, and its ethereal crimson light called the wretched things hiding in the Deepwood to come forth and slake their hunger for human flesh.

Monstrous creatures of death and darkness, the beasts of the Deepwood ruled the sunless places of Salem's great forests where no man dared to tread. There they watched and waited for the coming of the Blood Eclipse, the time when they might leave the Deepwood and feast on the people of Salem once more. That time had come again at last, and the beasts of the Deepwood roamed freely in search of their most sought-after prey.

Once more, conflict raged across Salem as man fought a bitter war against the horrors of the Deepwood. Cities were besieged, towns destroyed, and people slaughtered and eaten as the Deepwood hordes swept across the planet like a plague. Their progress was not without hindrance, however, and Salem's people bled the beasts for every life they took.

Knights and men-at-arms, militia fighters and guards, farmers and zealots, kings' men and mercenaries – all fought back against the beasts' advance. Great was their fury and the bite of their steel, but it was nothing compared to the numbers of the beasts nor the centuries of unsated hunger driving them.

As the days turned to weeks, the armies of men retreated back to their strongholds. Yet so vast were the hordes that many armies found themselves surrounded by the beasts and left with no choice but to fight to the very end.

Lesser men would have despaired at this fate, drop their swords and weep at the unfairness of their plight. But the men of Salem did not despair. They gripped their swords tightly and fought tooth and nail against their bestial foe, screaming their defiance with such ferocity that it rivaled the savage howls of the monsters. They knew they would not survive, and so resolved to kill as many of the beasts as they could.

And so, it was at the Blood Eclipse's peak, when extinction seemed all but certain, that His Angels of Death sullied forth to slay the enemies of Mankind once more.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

As he pulled his sword free from a slain beast's neck, Barrasen caught sight of another in the corner of his eye galloping toward him. As he turned to face it with his sword ready, he noted it had a vaguely reptilian appearance. The beast attempted to close the distance between them with a leap, but Barrasen deftly rolled out of the way. As it hit the blood-soaked mud the young Varner knight sliced off one of its legs with his sword eliciting a sound of pain from the beast before it fell to the ground, unbalanced by the loss of its limb.

Though gravely injured, Barrasen regarded the crippled beast warily. It could still easily tear him to pieces if it got a hold of him, missing leg or not. He approached from behind, eying its powerful tail as it thrashed like an angry serpent, then struck. The blade cut deep into the beast's tail, almost severing it. Another sound of pain erupted from the beast's maw as its wounded tail slammed into Barrasen's body, throwing the knight to the ground.

Stars filled Barrasen's vision and he made to stand back up but fumbled. He tried again, knowing his life depended on it. Something collided with his back as he did, sending him sprawling back into the mud. When he tried to push himself back up once more, he found himself unable to, feeling a great weight pressing down on him.

A throaty growl from above him made the knight's blood go cold. A beast was upon him, pinning him down with its claws. He felt the plate of his armor give slightly, just barely able to withstand the creature's weight.

In that moment, it seemed death was certain for Barrasen. The beast would rip off his head and devour his body before moving on to fill its belly with the flesh of his fellow knights. The thought enraged the young knight. He struggled futilely beneath its hold, spite fueling his movements. He did not doubt he would die, but he refused to bow his head and give the monster the satisfaction of his submission to death.

"Raaagghh!" A voice cried out, and Barrasen suddenly felt the beast's weight shift. "Die, foul creature! No more knights shall fall to you!"

The beast let out a sound that might have been a challenge. Focused on this new threat, the beast lessened its hold on the Varner knight. Seizing the chance, Barrasen pushed himself up, surprising the beast and unbalancing it. It stumbled back a step, but quickly caught itself just in time to see the axe as it slammed down on its head.

The new knight pulled the weapon free before the body hit the ground and turned to look at Barrasen. The Varner knight took a second to notice his blue tabard and the white swan that decorated his shield. He recognized these as the colors and crest of House Naleer, an enemy of House Varner.

The Naleer knight thumped his axe against his shield and Barrasen reciprocated the gesture before the two knights of rival houses turned their focus back to the battle. "I am Ser Trevis," Said the knight. "Knight of House Naleer." A small beast ran at Trevis as he finished his introduction, only for his axe to smash into its back, shattering its spine.

"I am Ser Barrasen," He began, pausing to block a claw swipe with his shield and countering with a sword thrust to the monster's throat. "Knight of House Varner."

Trevis gave a growl as he swung his shield into the snout of a rushing beast, shattering bone and dislodging teeth. The monster fell to the mud, whining in pain before a trio of men-at-arms stabbed it to death with their spears. No more words were traded between the young knights as they continued to fight against the horde. The duo fought heroically, slaying many of the Deepwood's monsters alongside the other knights and men-at-arms of their two houses, but they were a few against a legion. No matter how many they killed, the combined army of Varner and Naleer soon found themselves surrounded by the beasts with no hope of escape.

Barrasen watched as a Varner man-at-arms was pounced upon by a lupine beast, his screams changing to wet gurgles as the monster ripped out his throat. The soldier's fellows retaliated with vengeful fury, thrusting at the beast with their spears and driving it away from his corpse.

Three crossbow bolts slammed into the retreating beast, two striking its chest while the third pierced its eye. It toppled backwards and was grabbed by several of its ravenous kin who wasted no time in devouring its corpse. Disgust welled inside Barrasen at the sight, though he found he wasn't surprised. They had been trapped in the Deepwod for centuries after all, they had to have been eating something.

"No sense of fellowship, these beasts," Uttered Trevis as he hacked off a beast's claw. "No loyalty or love is shared between them. Only murderous hunger."

"They are of the Deepwood," responded Barrasen before pausing to duck out of the way of a beast's jaws then bringing his sword down on its exposed neck. "Unnatural beasts from an unnatural place, that is all that we need to know, to dwell on it further is to invite madness into your mind."

"The boy speaks true, Swan Knight!" Proclaimed an older knight to Barrasen's right. A quick glance revealed he wore the yellow of House Varner. "Waste not your thoughts on how they are, focus instead on how to kill them!" He punctuated his statement with a thrust of his claymore, burying the blade half-way to the hilt inside an unlucky beast. Barrasen and another Varner knight made to guard his flanks, but the older knight had thrust too deep, he could not pull the weapon free.

A dog-sized beast leapt onto the impaled corpse of its larger kin and used it as a platform to launch itself at the older knight. He tried to bring his arm up to block the attack, but it served only to alter the beast's aim slightly. The small beast's massive jaws clamped down over the knight's helmet, destroying the visor and ripping out chunks of his face. The older man fell to the ground, screaming in pain as he desperately tried to pry the monster from his face. By the time the other Varner knight had kicked the beast off him the man was dead, his face an unrecognizable mess of torn flesh and bone.

Barrasen stomped on the small monster's back in retribution and was rewarded with a loud crack as its spine was snapped in two. Vengeance achieved, Barrasen realized how heavy his breathing had become. The exhalation of air echoed loudly within the confines of his helmet and sweat ran down his face in rivers. Adrenaline and battle-fury had kept him going thus far, but for how much longer?

How long could they hold the beasts here? How long until they were all devoured by the horde, like so many had been before them? Would their sacrifice see Silverport standing by the Eclipse's end? Was the city even still there? Was his family still alive? Were they all that was left?

Had the Emperor abandoned them?

 _BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!_

Barrasen suddenly found himself on his hands and knees as the earth trembled from the unexpected explosions. It grew worse as more explosions sounded nearby, drowning out the pained yowls of dying beasts. Barrasen felt a pair of hands haul him to his feet, and he saw pillars of black smoke rising from within the press of the horde.

A new noise caught his ear just then, an odd whistling-shriek, growing louder and louder with each second until it became a thunderous roar. A trio of black shapes flew over the army of men and their beastly foes, blowing hot wind through their ranks. Silhouetted against the red light of the Eclipse, Barrasen could make out short wings and long, sturdy bodies. For a moment, he could not believe his eyes. It was only when he saw them spew thunder and fire into the beasts that his doubts were banished.

Dragons, he thought, real, honest-to-Emperor dragons…

The yowls of the beasts were drowned out by the dragons' fury, unable to compete against the volume of such destructive power. As they tore through the horde, more shapes appeared in the sky. Some were more dragons, flying over the beasts and breathing death upon them, slaughtering scores of them in seconds. Others simply struck the earth, coming down like stone hurled by an angry god. Barrasen could not see what these ones did, they were too far away, but he did not doubt that each one had crushed many beasts upon impact.

Already the beasts' unrelenting advance began to falter. in the wake of this unexpected shift. The monsters hesitated, braying in confusion… or maybe in fear? Barrasen suspected the beasts were not used to being prey.

Regardless, the pandemonium spreading through the horde gave the soldiers of Varner and Naleer a moment to regroup. It was brief, barely a few seconds, but it was all they needed to reorganize themselves to better defend against the beasts as they resumed their assault on the army survivors. They were impaled on the pikes and spears of men-at-arms, cut down by supporting knights, or dropped by the few archers still living.

"Drive them back men of Varner!" Shouted Lord Varner from atop his charger as he lopped off the head of a beast trying to grab a spearman. "The Emperor has answered our prayers, we shall not die this day!"

"Hold fast, warriors of Naleer!" Proclaimed Lord Naleer as his horse shattered the skull of a beast with its powerful hooves. "His gaze is upon us all! Prove that you are worthy of His great mercy with faith and fury!" He raised his war-pick high and roared, "For the Emperor!"

"For the Emperor!" Cried Barrasen and all who stood beside him. The cry went up among all the survivors, further strengthening their morale. "For the Emperor! For the Emperor!" the cry became a chant, a mantra of conviction and fury recited in the face of death. "For the Emperor! For the Emperor! For-"

"FOR THE EMPEROR!"

The thunderous declaration silenced the soldiers' chanting as strange _Bang-bang-bang_ sounds grew louder and louder. Then, in the distance, Barrasen saw them. Clad in armor of black, red and gold, cutting through the beastly horde as farmers might scythe through their fields. Like untouchable gods of death, they strode through the beasts with merciless efficiency, ensuring none could escape their wrath.

He saw ten of them, each clad in the same armor and each wielding strange and devasting weapons. There was one who stood out however, distinguished by a bright red helmet and a massive, clawed hand that crackled with lightning. This one turned to the human remnants and as he raised his claw into the air, Barrasen nearly went to his knees. "Fight on, knights of Salem," the warrior shouted, his powerful voice reaching them with no trouble, "in the name of the God-Emperor and the Nameless Saint, let none survive your retribution!"

Barrasen watched in awe as the red helmed giant brought his claw down upon a brazen beast that sought to tear out the towering warrior's throat. His lightning-wreathed talons traveled through the beast, parting muscle, bone, and sinew with the ease of a hot knife through butter. Reduced to bloody pieces, the warrior was already killing another beast before the remains of his previous kill had even hit the ground.

The young knight nearly jumped when a hand slapped itself against his pauldron. "Hey!" He looked over to seen Trevis. "Now is not the time for day dreaming, my friend." The Naleer knight thrust his sword toward the giants. "The Emperor has sent His Black Knights to save us, but there are still many more beasts to slay. Let us act as knights should and kill these monsters. For the Emperor!"

Barrasen blinked, then allowed a ferocious grin to split his features beneath his helmet. "For the Emperor, brother." He grabbed Trevis' pauldron tightly. "Time to prove our worth!"

The two young knights then charged into the beastly horde, eager to prove themselves in the eyes of the legendary Black Knights. The rest followed after them, all doubts toward survival banished by the appearance of the Emperor's holy warriors. Now, they fought for glory, for honor, and for the Emperor of Mankind.

Now, they had hope.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

And so, it was, all across the planet, the advance of the bestially scourge was blunted by the ceramite fist of the Adeptus Astartes of the Black Lions chapter.

In the many battles where the Salemite armies still fought to push back the Deepwood beasts, the Black Lions descended from the skies in drop pods and thunderhawk gunships. They left their transports with guns blazing and swords raised, mercilessly cutting down every beast they saw. Assault squads carved bloody paths through the hordes with their chainswords as tactical squads followed close behind, providing fire support. Devastator squads mowed down score after score of beasts with their heavy weapons as gunships and land speeders flew overhead, making attack run after attack run.

In those walled cities and fortresses where the beasts laid siege and the innocent prayed for the God-Emperor's protection, the chapter's mortal servants came to fight in their masters' stead. Battle serfs trained in the ways of war and combat, so as to better serve their trans-human masters, plowed through the Deepwood beasts in rhino and razorback tanks, grinding them beneath their treads before storming out from their transports to unleash storms of lasfire against the beasts. Escorting these mortal warriors were the chapter's ancients, great heroes entombed within the life-support sarcophagi of dreadnought war machines so that they could continue to fight the Emperor's wars. It was their duty to ensure the survival of Salem's population centers. They would not fail in their task.

But it was in the deserted places where only beasts now roamed, and all human life had been devoured, that the hordes of the Deepwood felt the full, unbridled wrath of the Black Lions. In these places, where there was no worry of serious damage to the planet or its human population, the chapter fleet unleashed its fury in the form of orbital bombardment. The land was transformed by the force of the strikes: lakes evaporated, hills became craters, forests burned, and mountains crumbled while millions of Deepwood beasts were incinerated in an instant.

The mortal warriors of Salem's feudal houses, those armies that had not been consumed by the hordes, rallied at the sight before them. Weary limbs surged with newfound strength as knights and common soldiers charged back into the fray, eager to join their saviors in battle. Gone was their desperation, replaced by hope and enforced by fury. They fought to prove themselves to the God-Emperor's chosen, to show they were worthy of joining the ranks of His most holy warriors.

The surprise of the Space Marines' counterattack did not last long, but by then, the beasts advance had lost all momentum. Slowly, bit by bit, the beasts of the Deepwood were pushed back by the combined fury of the Black Lions and the Salemites, but they made the humans pay for every inch they bought. They lashed out with tooth and claw, talons and tusks, horns and hooves. Men and beast died in droves as the fighting dragged on, each driven by instinctual hatred for the other.

The humans' hate proved the greater force, however. Carried by the power and zeal of the Black Lions, the Salemites managed to hold back the Deepwood tide long enough for the Blood Eclipse to pass. As the crimson glow faded from the sky the beasts broke and ran, fleeing back into the depths of the woods where none dared follow them.

The time of death and blood had ended, and the people of Salem rejoiced in their survival. Within the cities and castles, dancing erupted in the streets, bells tolled in the churches and temples, loved ones embraced and thanks was given to the Emperor and His Black Knights.

But on the battlefields, there was no sign of such mirth. True, the knights and soldiers of Salem's kingdoms felt pride and joy for their victory over the Deepwood beasts, but their time for celebration was put aside as the skull-helmed chaplains and white-armored apothecaries of the Black Lions made their way through the ranks of mortal warriors in search of suitable recruits for the chapter.

They found many who met their requirements. Already, the total number of potential recruits collected had climbed to the high thousands. Those youths selected were escorted by battle serfs into the troop bays of idle leviathan-pattern mass-landers where they would be flown off to the proving grounds of the Black Lions' fortress monastery Castrum Argallus, where they would partake in the Games.

"Quite the sight," announced Arin as he looked over the procession of Salemite youths being sorted through by Chaplain Rickard and Apothecary Lanser. "So many new brothers for our chapter."

"Do not delude yourself, Arin." Said Cedrick, his gruff voice made harsher by his helmet's vox grille. "They are not our brothers, yet."

"The more we recruit, the more will die in the Games," added Miltar. The heavy weapons expert sat behind his brothers on a large rock where he busied himself with cleaning the skull of a four-horned beast. Another trophy to add to the collection already dangling from his left pauldron. He did not look up from his work as he spoke. "Only the ones who survive its trials will be worthy of being our brothers. Such is His Will."

"Such is His Will," the words were repeated by Miltar's brothers with reverence. A unique quiet settled over the battle-brothers of Tactical Squad Jorran then as they took a moment of silence to thank the Emperor for allowing them to partake in this short, but vital campaign, as well as to honor the many warriors that had fallen to the beasts' claws.

The battlefield they now looked over was a scene copied across all of Salem. From their vantage point on an overlooking hill, the tactical squad saw a muddy sea of human and beast corpses stretching for miles. Those surviving mortals too old or weak to be chosen milled about the corpse field, searching for the remains of their lost comrades. Those they found intact enough for burials were loaded onto wagons for transport home, but these were few. Many opted to simply take the weapon and shield of their friends so as to return them to their families.

The growling roar of machine-engines cut through the solemn atmosphere like a cleaver. Giant dozer-bladed tractors plowed through the field of death, their servitor pilots pushing countless bodies into massive piles where they were dosed in promethium and lit aflame.

Brother-Sergeant Jorran eyed one of the corpse mounds as fire consumed it. The talons of his Crusade-pattern lightning claw twitched in agitated disgust as he took notice of several human shapes in the mound, unmoving as the flames crept ever closer. The servitors did not discriminate between human and beast.

It was a sight he was familiar with. This unceremonious disposal of the dead was something he had seen performed on countless worlds. They could ill afford the time it would take for their work force to find their deceased loved ones, nor the risk of spread of disease it might invoke.

But Salem was a feudal world, a death world. Their world. There were no quotas to meet, no production deadlines, only humans trying to survive on a world that would see them slaughtered. These men were knights of Salem, he thought bitterly, they stood their ground against an enemy of relentless ferocity, and this is how they will be honored.

"Brother-Sergeant?" Jorran turned to look at the faces and helms of his brothers, their eyes now on him. He realized his fist was clenched and the adamantine talons of his claw were scrapping against the ceramite of his enlarged gauntlet.

He released the fist. "Forgive me, brothers," he said. "I was lost in thought."

A brief silence fell over them again, until it was broken by Holt. "They fought bravely."

Miltar let out a laugh. "Did you expect them to run when the beasts came?"

"Of course not," Holt amended, "the children of Salem are fierce warriors, one and all. Still, the courage they displayed during the Eclipse was… admirable."

"Admirable indeed." Jorran said, turning his gaze back to the procession of Salemite youths, catching sight of a group of twenty walking toward one of the leviathans. "Should they survive the Games, I believe they will accomplish great things and slay many foes in the Emperor's holy name."

"It is said that those recruited from a Blood Eclipse go on to become great heroes of the chapter." Pointed out Nethin. "Take our brother-captain for example."

Captain of the Black Lions' third brotherhood, Braedon Ando had been among those recruited from the last Blood Eclipse nearly three centuries ago. Long before any of them had been born, Ando had fought against the Emperor's many foes, earning glory and honor for the chapter with every victory. Blessed with great strategic cunning and possessing superb martial prowess, he had led the third brotherhood to countless triumphs, more than earning his position of captain and the respect of his brothers.

Dontin snorted, "Do you mean to say our future captain is down there?"

Nethin shrugged, the movement causing the devotion chains dangling from his bolter to rattle gently. "For all we know. The Emperor works in mysterious ways; perhaps our next chapter master is among them as well."

"The possibility of that certainly exists," proclaimed a loud, commanding voice. "Though I doubt our liege will need replacing any time soon."

Squad Jorran turned and stood at attention before their captain. "My lord," Jorran bowed his head and made a half-sign of the Aquila with his left hand. Those of his brothers not grasping weapons did the same, though since none were burdened with a bulky lightning claw, they were able to make the full sign.

Captain Ando returned the gesture, folding his hands over the veiled face of the Nameless Saint that adorned his breastplate. Without a word, Squad Jorran parted for the captain as he made his way to stand beside the sergeant. For a moment he said nothing as he watched the chaplain and apothecary sort through the youths, a look of nostalgia overcoming his features.

"I remember when I was chosen," he said suddenly, his gaze never leaving the field. "I was convinced that by nightfall I would be donning the colors of the chapter and swearing fealty to the God-Emperor at the foot of His Golden Throne." He let out a dry chuckle. "Of course, I did not know about the Games back then. I did not know I would have to prove myself worthy of power armor. I did not know that the Emperor's Golden Throne was a million light-years away. How many down there harbor the same thoughts, I wonder? How many will survive to learn the true scale of the Emperor's reach? How many will endure the trials necessary to become Astartes?"

"Only the Emperor knows, my lord," answered Jorran, unsure of how else to answer such a question, "those He favors will succeed, those He finds lacking will fail."

"Such is the way of things," The captain agreed, turning his head to look at the sergeant. "But how many do you think will prove their worth, Sergeant? How many new brothers do you see down there?"

Jorran frowned and opened his mouth to answer only to shut it when the captain placed a finger to his ear. The sergeant heard the crackle of vox static as the captain's smile quickly disappeared. He acknowledged the transmission before lifting his finger from his ear and cursing.

"What is it, my lord?" Arin's question was of curiosity, but Jorran heard the traces of concern in the young Marine's voice. Few things could antagonize their captain so easily.

Captain Ando turned his gaze on the squad, irritation in his bronze eyes. "We have guests," he said before marching down the hill, leaving Squad Jorran to their devices.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

"May the God-Emperor be with you all."

"And also, with you."

"Go in peace." With the service's end, Carmine's flock rose from their seats and slowly made their way out of the cellar. Some stayed and chatted with each other, others came up to him and thanked him for the service while the children raced each other up the stairs. All in all, it was a typical Sunday for the priest.

He noticed young Ruby escorting little Oliver outside, letting the faunus boy pull her along by her hand. He was glad to see the young Huntress-in-training was doing better since they had their talk, back to her usual chipper self. An amused smile crossed his lips as Carmine entertained the thought of himself becoming a therapist instead of priest, but he dismissed the thought as quickly as it appeared.

It was the God-Emperor who aided Ruby in her time of crisis, he had merely acted as the mouthpiece.

Soon, the cellar's occupants returned to the surface to enjoy the post service in the courtyard. Carmine was just about to make his way up to join them when he noticed there was still one person in the cellar besides himself and his guards.

He looked over to see a woman sitting in one of the back rows. She was dressed conservatively in a mint-green dress over a white top. She had long ivory hair that reached past her shoulders and when she noticed Carmine's eyes on her, she smiled warmly at the priest.

Getting a good look at her face, he realized he did not recognize her. He had made it a point to know each and every member of his flock, and this woman was not one of them. A spike of fear shot through his body for an instant, terrified by the possibly that this woman was a Huntress sent to silence him and arrest his flock.

His fear must have shown on his face because the woman frowned, "Are you alright, Father?" She asked, her voice one of alluring innocence.

Carmine shook his head to regain his composure. "I-I am fine, child. Thank you." He gave her a smile to sell his lie, but she did not appear fooled. He tried to change the subject. "Who are you? I have not seen you here before. Are you visiting for the Vytal Festival?"

"My name is Yuria Lond, and no I am not here for the Vytal Festival," she stood up from her seat and slowly made her way over to Carmine. The priest felt his heart hammering in his chest as she drew closer and he shot a look toward Malach and Turk and felt some measure of relief. "I am here for you."

When she was two yards away from Carmine, Malach and Turk made their move. Pulling out their pistols, the two gangsters pressed the muzzles of their guns against the back of the woman's head. She stopped in her tracks, knowing what they wanted from her, and raised her hands over her head.

"There's no need for violence," she began, but was silenced by Turk's gun pressing hard against her skull.

"Shut up Huntress." He growled. "You don't get to act all high and mighty now. Even Aura can't protect you from a point-blank bullet to the brain."

"You got a lot of nerve to come here, to this holy place," sneered Malach as he moved to place himself between Carmine and the woman. "Who sent you? The Council? Beacon? That Atlas general? Answer me bitch, before I-"

"Ave Imperator, sacerdos." Carmine's eyes went wide when the woman spoke, he recognized those words. "Nunc dic homines stare ante me occidere eos."

Malach and Turk looked at her with confusion, not understanding the weight of her words. "What the hell was tha-"

"Stand down," Carmine ordered.

Turk looked back at the priest in shock. "What?! Father, she's-"

"I said stand down, you fools!" He repeated, more forcefully this time. "She speaks in the Emperor's Holy Tongue! No Huntress would know His sacred language, nor the weight inherent in its use. Stand down, before you incur His wrath."

The two thugs hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Reluctantly, they lowered their weapons and stepped away from the woman, whose smile sent a shiver down Carmine's spine.

"Thank you, Father." She said, making the Sign of the Aquila. "Ave Imperator."

Carmine did not drop his guard just because she spoke the Holy Tongue. This woman wasn't a Huntress but that didn't rule her out as a possible threat just yet. He wanted answers. "Who are you? Why are you here? How do you know the Emperor's Holy Tongue?"

She smiled at him, a thing both kind and predatory. "As I have already said, my name is Yuria Lond. I am a servant of the God-Emperor's divine will." At the end of her introduction, she bowed to the priest, an elaborate and graceful display that made him think of a ballerina. "And I am here for you, Father Carmine. The Emperor has need of you, and your flock."

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

 **Author's Note: Well that was ominous, huh? I wonder what Yuria and Yole are up to while their Inquisitor is off talking with space marines. Anyway, what did you all think? This was a lot of fun for me to write so I hope you enjoyed it too. The battle scene in particular was a blast to write, but also challenging. It was pretty hard coming up with descriptors for the space marine aircraft when your point of view character is on a feudal world.**

 **Expect more from the Space Marines and Inquisitor Kress' retinue in the future, but we won't see them on Remnant for a few more chapters. Why? Let's just say the Games that follow the Blood Eclipse are not exactly short, and that's not counting all the ceremonies and rituals in between.**

 **Also, this is what Yuria said: "Hail Emperor, priest. I mean you no harm. Now tell your men to stand down before I kill them."**

 **And also, Yes, Carmine recognizes High Gothic, but outside of Ave Imperator, he doesn't not speak it. He barely understood what Yuria even said.**

 **Also, and this is just because I want to share this, here is the name of another of Kress' retinue: Artoris Von Gwynn. Guess who he is?**

 **As Always: Please, Fav, Follow, and Review! Thank You!**

 **DeadRich18 Out!**


	4. Chapter 3: Into the Lion's Den

**I do not own RWBY or Warhammer 40,000, only my original characters.**

 **Hello everyone! First off, I am sorry about last week when I first posted this chapter only to take it down minutes later. I was overly excited about the prospect of getting this done before the New Year and it was only after I posted it that I realized that I fucked up. It wasn't that the scenes were bad, just out of place. I am sorry, and I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

 **Also, RWBY is continuing that trend of a good climb but a shitty decline. In all honesty, the show is doing well, I just REALLY hate the new characters. Their annoying incompetence is just too much for me to enjoy the show. Sorry, mini-rant, wanted to get that off my chest.**

 **On the flipside, lot of good things coming to Warhammer recently. Gloomspite Gitz for AOS, and the potential for new chaos space marines in March are definitely things to be excited about. I also got a ton of Primaris Marines for Christmas and I'm still in the process of building and painting them. Anyway, enough of that, lets get onto the chapter. Also, for those wondering, Kress' skull mask is basically like the bare headed Riever masks, only silver. Big shoutout to my beta reader Pinkpower3612, who was a huge help with this chapter.**

 **Onto the story!**

* * *

 **Return of Faith**

 **Chapter Three: Into the Lion's Den**

When their request to meet with the chapter master of the Black Lions chapter had been granted, Kara had expected their arrival to be met with some form of ceremonial procession in the landing bay. And why wouldn't they? An Inquisitor spoke with the voice of the God-Emperor, granting him immense power and limitless authority. To not treat one of His holy watchmen with the respect their station demanded was not only foolish, but suicidal.

So, when their arrival was greeted by a small party of thirty armed serfs and only a single space marine, Kara was understandably surprised, as were her companions.

Though they did not voice it, Kara knew they were as puzzled as she was. She let her mind softly brush against their surface thoughts, listening to them but refraining from delving deeper than was needed. It gave the young pysker a measure of comfort to know she was not the only one perplexed by this lackluster welcome.

When the space marine and his serfs approached them, Kara was half-tempted to read his thoughts as well, so she might learn the truth behind this strange development. But Kara knew better than to try something like that. She might be able to get away with it on a human due to her status as an Inquisitor's acolyte, but something told her that if she tried it on a space marine all she would get was a bolter round to the head.

The space marine halted his march when he was at a respectable distance, as did his human escort. Kara hid the awe she felt upon seeing the warrior close up. He was massive, clad in black power armor trimmed with gold and pauldrons painted crimson. An ash gray cape dragged behind him, frayed and dirtied. In fact, now that he was closer, Kara saw scratches and shallows cuts all across his armor, as if he had just come out of some terrible battle.

Before she could ponder this new information however, the space marine spoke. "I am Captain Galwayne of the Black Lions' 4th brotherhood," He greeted, making the sign of the Aquila. "In the God-Emperor's name, I bid you welcome, Inquisitor Kress, to Castrum Argalus."

Kress bowed his head and reciprocated the gesture of greeting. "Thank you, Captain Galwayne," he said, his mask mutilating his voice into a mechanical snarl. "We are honored to be allowed entry into this most hallowed fortress." At that, Kara repeated the Inquisitor's greeting, and a brief check showed Artoris and Orbeck performing their own greeting gestures.

"The chapter master is expecting you, come." Without waiting for a reply, Galwayne turned and started marching back the way he came. Kress and his retinue followed him, flanked on both sides by the armed serfs the captain had arrived with.

Kara noted with interest how well equipped the serfs were. Each was clad in black carapace armor and wore stylistically-modified omnishield helms that hid their faces from view. Finely crafted lasguns of an unfamiliar design were clutched close to the chest and a sheathed combat blade hung from every man's belt. If it were not for the red tabard bearing the black lion head of the chapter, Kara might have mistaken them for stormtroopers.

As Captain Galwayne led the Inquisitor and his retinue deeper into the fortress monastery, Kara took notice of how empty it was. They came across no other Astartes, and only a few chapter serfs. Mostly, it was just servitors and servo-skulls that crossed their path, mindlessly performing their designated duties.

"Where is everyone?" Artoris wondered aloud, giving voice to the question they were all thinking.

"They are preparing for the Games." Galwayne answered, raising more questions.

"Query: what are 'the Games'?" the synthesized – and loud – voice of Orbeck echoed through the massive corridor, making Kara wince from the lack of tact. "Hypothesis: a form of proving ritual?"

"Correct," answered the captain, unphased by the techpriest's augmented voice. "The Games test the strength and will of the youths we recruit, to determine which among them are worthy of becoming neophytes of our chapter."

Kara frowned at that statement. From her master's teachings, she knew that space marine recruitment trials were brutal and rigorous, designed to weed out the weak and permit only the strongest recruits the chance of becoming Astartes.

Galwayne led the Inquisitor and his retinue into a grav-tube, dismissing the serfs that had accompanied him. They saluted in a warrior's fashion – a closed fist placed over the heart – before leaving. Once the captain entered, the machine propelled them deeper into the massive complex, all while Kara pondered the Astartes captain's words.

There was no way the Games were simply recruitment trials, she decided. It wouldn't make sense for warriors like the Black Lions to invest so much time and resources every time they wanted to test their recruits. There had to be something else about these Games, something special that warranted the entirety of the Black Lions chapter attendance.

The question now was what that something was, and how it would affect Kress' plan.

"Does something trouble you, little witch?" The calm, curious voice of Artoris jolted Kara from her thoughts. "You are frowning more than usual."

The pysker looked at the Freeblade for a moment, then said, "It's nothing, Artoris." She lied before chancing a sidelong glance toward the space marine riding with them. His glaring golden eyes made her turn away, however. The psyker could tell, even without her powers, that the captain did not care for their presence.

Artoris tilted his head at her answer, expression hidden beneath the hooded confines of his helm. Kara knew he was not convinced, but before he could voice his skepticism, they arrived at their destination.

Once they all departed the grav-tube, they marched onward in silence. Suddenly, Kress let out a cough, drawing Kara's attention. It wasn't a sign of something serious, but his mask made it sound far worse than it actually was. If Galwayne had any concern for Inquisitor's health, he did not show it as he kept his gaze forward. But Kress had not been aiming for the space marine's attention, he had been after Kara's.

Her focus now on her master, Kara saw him make the gesture that he wished to speak with her in private. A part of her worried that now was not the best time to engage in telepathic communication, but she knew better than to disobey her master's orders.

She reached out for his mind, her pace slowing slightly as she concentrated. _When we meet with the chapter master, do not speak without my or his express permission._ He instructed. _Any questions he asks, answer only those that relate to Remnant and what we found there. Understand?_

 _Yes._ Satisfied with her answer, Kress instructed Kara to leave his mind. Once the connection between master and apprentice was severed, Kara wondered why he had waited until now to inform her of her role in these talks.

She quickly chastised herself for having such a disloyal thought. The Inquisitor did as he did, for that was his right as an agent of the Golden Throne. To question his motives is to question the motives of the God-Emperor Himself. Her master knew what he was doing, and to think otherwise was heresy.

Eventually, the group came to a stop before a closed doorway. They were massive in scale, more akin to a pair of gates than a pair of doors, and each beautifully decorated. A rampant black lion took up the majority of both doors, carved with such care and focus that they seemed almost real. Between the two beasts was a vailed woman cut from pale marble, her hands folded before her chest in the mark of the Aquila while the twin-headed eagle of the Imperium spread its golden wings over both the woman and the lions, both heads screeching in silent fury.

A moment passed before the doors yawned open, splitting the mural in twain as the party moved through it. They entered a great throne room where Kara was satisfied to finally see more Astartes besides the captain. Twenty space marines flanked the way to the end of the room, where on raised dais sat the chapter master of the Black Lions chapter upon a throne of black marble and gold. Two more Astartes stood beside him, one wearing the skull helm of a Chaplain and the other wearing the blue of a Librarian. Besides these warriors, the room was mostly bare, save for the black marble pillars and the chapter banners and triumph tapestries decorating the walls.

As Galwayne led the Inquisitor and his retinue across the room, Kara noted with interest that each of the Astatres bore the same marks of battle as the captain, as if to say they had all just returned from some great campaign.

But that couldn't be so. Kara had seen the fleet when they had exited the Warp, and none of the ships bore the scars of recent battle. Had something happened on the planet's surface perhaps, maybe something related to these 'Games' the captain mentioned?

 _A fair assumption, Kara Storell_. A voice in her head said. The psyker tensed, but kept walking, as she registered another mind touching her own. Her eyes immediately darted to the Librarian to the Chapter Master's left. He met her gaze with his own before removing himself from her thoughts.

Kara blinked, dumbstruck by how easily the space marine had infiltrated her mind without her knowledge. She had not even realized he was there until he spoke into her mind. Fearfully, Kara wondered how long the Librarian had been in her mind? How many secrets had he pilfered before revealing himself? What would he do with them, and how would Kress react to her failure to-

Artoris grabbed hold of the fretting psyker's arm, arresting her from her thoughts and returning her to the here and now. As he let go, Kara noticed they had all stopped, standing before the Black Lions' chapter master who stared at them all with unreadable silver eyes.

He did not look how Kara had expected him to. He bore stern and regal features as she had thought he would, certainly, but there was something artificial about his appearance. An incidental by-product of his transformation into an Astartes perhaps, or maybe an intended result?

Regardless, it did nothing to detract from his imposing image. The chapter master possessed an aura that demanded respect and exuded incredible strength. A single look was enough for Kara to understand that he was a veteran of a thousand wars, a leader of incredible skill and cunning, a man that felt no mercy for his enemies.

When he spoke, he did so in a voice that matched his features. "Inquisitor Oscar Kress," he began, like a warrior king addressing visiting dignitaries. "I welcome you, and your retinue, to Salem."

Kress bowed his head in respect, as did Kara and the others. "Thank you, chapter master Castimere. As I told captain Galwayne, we are honored by your hospitality."

"The honor is ours, Inquisitor," Lord Castimere replied. "We have not forgotten what you did for us, on Telisar IV. You saved many of my brothers from annihilation that day, and for that I named you friend to the Black Lions chapter and vowed to come to your aid should you ever seek it."

Kara stared at the back of Kress' head in astonishment. He had told her about Telisar IV on their way to Salem, saying it was where he first met Castimere and assisted the chapter master in the eradication of the world's rebellious population.

He had _not_ mentioned the bit where he saved the Black Lions from destruction, nor how they were apparently indebted to him for it.

That this same chapter was the one that visited Remnant millennia ago… This was beyond coincidence, she decided.

"I was merely doing my duty as a servant of the Emperor, just as you were. That same duty is why I have come to you today." Kress raised his gaze to meet the chapter master's. "I have found a planet, one that has been cut off from the wider Imperium until now. There, my agents made several… disturbing discoveries, including the revelation that worship of the God-Emperor is _outlawed_ by the planet's governing bodies."

Kara saw the chapter master's eyes narrow at that, and felt the room go cold. Her eyes darted immediately to the Librarian, but once she did, the chill vanished just as suddenly as it appeared. He met her gaze again for a moment, expression as unreadable as his liege lord's, before setting his sights back on the Inquisitor.

"I come to you now to ask for your aid in bringing this planet back into the Imperium's fold." Her master continued, driven by the chapter master's reaction. "According to my agents, many still worship the Emperor, in secret, awaiting the day when He will return and smite the nonbelievers and bring peace and prosperity to their world." Kress paused then and took one step toward the chapter master. "With your aid, I would see their patience and faith rewarded, and grant them the right to praise His name in the streets of their cities, as is their holy right."

For several long seconds, silence hung over the throne room, before the chapter master responded with a single request, though he spoke it as a command. "Tell me more about this world."

Though she couldn't see it, Kara knew her master was smiling. "It is called Remnant…"

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

When Ruby woke up the day of the dance, she was relieved to see Blake fast asleep in her bed.

The young leader was beyond grateful that Yang had gotten through to the stubborn faunus. Noting that her two other teammates were also still asleep, Ruby crept out of her bed and headed for the bathroom to get ready for the day.

After brushing her teeth and taking a shower, she offered a quick prayer of thanks to the Emperor and got dressed. Checking her Scroll, Ruby was pleased to see she still had time to grab some breakfast at the cafeteria before heading to Vale for Father Carmine's Sunday service. Leaving behind a note explaining she was heading out to buy some last-minute mission supplies and pick up her dumb dress from the rental shop, the leader of Team RWBY left her dorm room with the sort of stealth only a little sister could possess.

Closing the door gently behind her, Ruby started down the hallway, but stopped when she eyed Team JNPR's room door.

She thought of Jaune, descendent of the Holy Paladin Order and her first friend at Beacon. Since their first talk at the start of the second semester, the two leaders had had more secret meetings with each other. They talked about a lot of things during their meetings, not just about the Faith or the Paladins.

They talked about family, where they grew up, how annoying older sisters could be, and most importantly: weapons. Ruby wasn't afraid to admit she did most of the talking whenever they started talking about weapons, but Jaune never seemed to mind.

They also shared secrets. Ruby revealed herself as a member of the Faith, and Jaune told her how he snuck into Beacon Academy. They were surprised, naturally, but mostly by the fact that they each broken the law, albeit in different ways. Of course, given that both of them were still in Beacon despite that, said something about the two teenagers – and something about Beacon Academy too.

Ruby knew Jaune wasn't a member of the Faith, but he was her friend, and the only one in the school who wouldn't vilify her for her beliefs. He wouldn't be against attending a noon service then, would he?

Too excited by the prospect of him accepting the offer, Ruby went over to Team JNPR's door and knocked three times.

No response.

Ruby tried again, "Jaune," she added quietly, wanting him to answer but aware that he wasn't the only one in the room. "Jaune, are you up? Jaaaauuunnneee?" She then pressed her ear against the door, listening for any kind of response, when she heard the lock click and felt the door moving inward-

"Gah!" Ruby flailed her arms wildly as the door moved away and she was forced to rebalance herself. Thankfully, she succeeded, and was now realizing that a sleepy-eyed Jaune was currently staring at her… and the embarrassing pose her flailing had put her in.

Quick to get correct her posture, Ruby greeted her fellow leader, hoping to the Emperor he didn't notice how red her cheeks were. "M-morning, Jaune!"

The blonde in question blinked at her. "Morning, Ruby," he yawned back, stretching at bit. "Did you need something? What time is it?"

Ruby fished out her Scroll. "It's 9:32," she told him. "I was about to head down for breakfast, and I just wanted to see if you'd like to join me. Then maybe, we could head into Vale together? Get some last-minute stuff for our missions tomorrow?" She left out the part about going to Father Carmine's service, she'd ask him about that when they were on the airship.

He let out a sigh, and Ruby thought he might say no. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Give me a few minutes to get ready."

Ruby beamed. "Okay!"

Jaune went back inside dorm room, leaving Ruby to wait outside while he got cleaned up and dressed. As she waited, Ruby decided to go back to her own room and make some quick adjustments to her note to let her teammates know she'd be going out with Jaune. Not _that_ kind of 'going out' though, just the regular friends getting ready for their first mission kind of going out.

With that finished, she returned to the hallway to wait for Team JNPR's leader. Ten minutes went by as she waited, and the silver-eyed girl passed the time by playing one of the video games she had on her Scroll. She got about a third of the way through the level when the door to JNPR's room opened again and Jaune stepped out, dressed in his usual combat gear and looking much more awake than he did before.

"Thanks for waiting. Ready to get some food?" He asked after closing the door behind him.

"Yup!" The two started walking down the hall. "Are _you_ ready for the airship?" She asked him, a hint of friendly teasing in her voice.

Jaune gave Ruby a look. "You guys are never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Nope!" She replied.

Jaune sighed and Ruby giggled. The two friends continued talking with each other during their trip to the cafeteria before falling into a comfortable silence the rest of the way. They would have plenty more to talk about when they reached Vale however, of that, Ruby was certain.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

In the open fields outside the Black Lions' fortress monastery of Castrum Argalus, the clamor of battle marked the start of the Games. Youths selected during the Blood Eclipse competed against one another in grueling challenges that tested their bodies and spirit to the fullest. They jousted bareback wearing no armor, ran through treacherous obstacle courses in full-plate, fought wild animals with dull blades, and much more.

Many died, claimed by exhaustion or a fatal mistake. Those that survived were given no rest or praise by the observing Astartes, who merely directed them to their next challenge or called for the chapter serfs to escort them off the tournament fields. Those who saw this redoubled their efforts, intent on proving their worth to the space marines as their comrades had.

But only a few of these chosen recruits had a future as brothers of the chapter. Many had been found wanting in one form or another. Perhaps they had been a millisecond slower than the rest, perhaps they were not as strong or their reflexes not as sharp as was demanded by the Black Lions watching them.

Still, they had survived the challenges of the Games, and as such, had proven themselves capable of serving the chapter. They would become battle serfs, warrior servants of the chapter, and fight alongside their transhuman masters against the countless foes that beset the Imperium of Man.

The Games were not exclusive to the chapter's recruits, however. Further out in the fields, where the uninitiated could not see, full battle-brothers of the Black Lions competed against one another in sword duels and wrestling matches. Warriors from different brotherhoods met and conversed with each other, sharing tales of recent glories or settling old grudges.

More important though were the Champion Duels, where the champions of each brotherhood fought one another for the honor of wielding the legendary Sword of Salem. A relic blade of great power and symbolic importance, only the most skilled of the chapter's blade-masters were permitted to wield it into battle.

But the Champion Duels marked the end of the Games and would not start until every recruit taken during the Blood Eclipse had been processed. It would take the Black Lions weeks to sort through the tens of thousands of candidates recruited from the Blood Eclipse, however, so until then, the battle-brothers of the chapter would be free to watch the Games or spar with one another.

In one of the many dueling rings – bereft of his power armor and wielding a short sword –Jorran faced off against another sergeant of the 2nd brotherhood. The two Astartes circled each other, waiting to see who would strike first. Around them, their brothers watched in respectful silence so as not to distract either combatant.

Eventually, his opponent struck first, dashing right. Jorran saw the strike coming and moved to parry it, only to realize it was a feint. At the last possible moment, his opponent ducked left and attacked with a side-slash that Jorran only barely dodged. His opponent did not relent and forced Jorran onto the defensive, pushing the tactical sergeant several steps back with his lightning fast blade work.

Then, Jorran saw an opening and rolled out of the way, putting distance between himself and his opponent. The speed with which his foe reacted would have rendered the maneuver pointless had Jorran been a mortal man, but he was Astartes. In the milliseconds it took for his opponent to turn and face him, Jorran was charging the marine with his blade poised for a thrusting strike.

His opponent dodged the thrust with a quick sidestep and blocked Jorran's follow up strike with an easy parry. The two blades then locked at their hilts as each sergeant pushed against the other, digging furrows into the ground beneath them. They glared intently at each other, both determined to emerge the victor in this fight.

Suddenly, Jorran's opponent gave him a smirk, momentarily confusing the sergeant, before letting out a roar and shoving Jorran several steps back. His stance broken, Jorran was unable to dodge his opponent's follow up attack. He attempted to parry what he thought to be an overhead swing, but in a superb display of swordsmanship, his opponent altered his attack mid-swing to cut sideways along his exposed chest, drawing blood.

Not a moment later, his opponent performed a leg sweep that sent the already unbalanced Jorran toppling to the ground. Landing on his back with a dull thud, he had no time to react before he found his opponent's sword pointing toward him, its tip pressing hard against his throat.

"Yield, brother," his opponent demanded, voice hot with the rush of combat.

A tense moment passed before Jorran released his grip on his sword and conceded defeat. Smiling, his opponent removed his blade from the sergeant's throat and offered up his hand to the downed marine. Jorran accepted the hand and rose back to his feet.

"A close fight, but my skills proved sharper once more, old friend," stated his opponent, a pompous tone in his voice.

Jorran rolled his eyes but smiled all the same. "Ever the humble warrior, Aedor," he remarked. "I almost had you this time."

The assault sergeant's smile only widened. "You almost did," he said as the two of them left the ring so that their brothers might use it. A pair of serfs came over to the two sergeants, each holding a tray of rye bread and red wine. "Had the Emperor not seen fit to bless me with His divine favor, that is." Aedor then ripped a off a chunk of bread and ate it before taking a swig of wine.

Jorran raised an eyebrow at his brother's wording as he too tore off a piece of bread. "What do you mean?" He dipped his piece gently into the offered goblet, letting the bread absorb the liquid before placing it in his mouth.

"Near the end of the match, when our blades locked." He elaborated as the serfs scurried off to attend to other Black Lions. "My foot found purchase on a stone buried in the dirt that granted me the platform I needed to throw you off your balance."

"And our Almighty Lord placed the rock there so that you might defeat me?" Jorran inquired. "Quite the pious way of saying you were lucky."

Aedor laughed and Jorran quickly joined him. The two had once been part of the same Scout squad prior to becoming full battle-brothers of the chapter. They fought in many campaigns together, always seeking to surpass each other in one way or another but never putting their rivalry before their objective. They had not seen each other in decades, fighting on worlds thousands of lightyears apart. The Games provided the two old friends a rare opportunity to catch up and converse as they used to, many years ago.

"Have you heard any news about our… visitors?" Aedor asked as the two made their way toward the trial area.

"Only what you likely already know." Jorran replied.

Word of Inquisitor Kress' arrival had spread fast through the chapter's vox-network. Nearly every Black Lion was now aware of the Inquisitor's unexpected visit to their homeworld, and few of them were pleased by it, Aedor among them.

Aedor spat on the ground, his acidic saliva eating into the soil. "An Inquisitor showing up mere days after the Blood Eclipse, seeking an audience with our liege," he shook his head and turned to look Jorran in the eyes. "It does not sit well with me, Jorran. The timing is too convenient."

Jorran said nothing to this. Like his brother, he too was disturbed by the Inquisitor's timely arrival. He recalled hearing rumors of Inquisitorial investigations launched against the Black Lions and their homeworld of Salem, of accusations of Chaotic corruption brought about by the Blood Eclipse. Baseless claims made with no evidence. The Black Lions were among the purest of Dorn's sons and bore no Chaotic corruption despite the Inquisition's efforts to find it.

It was quite possible that Inquisitor Kress had come to Salem in order to renew one of his forebears failed investigations, but Jorran pushed aside such paranoid thoughts. "Whatever his intentions toward our chapter, I trust the chapter master to handle it."

"As do I, brother," said Aedor before he stopped in his tracks, promoting Jorran to do the same. "But my concern remains; why is he here?"

Jorran did not answer his brother's question, for he did not know either. While the Inquisitor's arrival had sparked rumor and speculation, it was the reason for his visit that was the true concern. What was it he wished to speak to the chapter master about? What impact would it have on the Black Lions themselves?

Jorran let his hand travel to the small bag that hung from his neck. He gripped it gently, rubbing his thumb against the coarse fabric, feeling the contents held within. The action calmed his hearts and brought clarity to his mind. His eyes drifted toward the mountainous complex that was Castrum Argalus, and the massive banners of roaring black lions that hung from its battlements.

"Whatever his reason," Jorran began, turning back to look at Aedor. "We are all servants of the God-Emperor, and it is by His Will that the Inquisitor has come to us." He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Have faith in Him, brother, and in our chapter master. Do not allow paranoia to cloud your mind so easily, it is beneath us."

Aedor was silent for a moment, then he let out a sigh and smiled. "You sound like Sergeant Quell," he said. "And like him, your words hold truth and wisdom. Forgive me, brother, the Eclipse has left my humors imbalanced."

"There is nothing to forgive." Jorran removed his hand from Aedor's shoulder and gestured back toward the dueling rings. "Come, let us clear our minds of doubt in the manner our sergeant taught us."

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

It was quite amusing how accessible air travel was on this planet. On most Imperial worlds, the use of aircraft would be restricted to the nobility, Adeptus Arbites, and local PDF forces, but here it on Remnant it was open to everyone, provided they had the money for it.

What's more, their security measures were downright pathetic. Only a single screening checkpoint prior to boarding, basic pict-casters, no guard patrols or surprise inspections, and the airships themselves carried no suppression systems to repel passengers should they turn hostile. They didn't even have a fighter escort to protect them against Grimm attacks, only a few point defense systems and maybe a Huntsman.

As such, Yuria Lond had no trouble smuggling her weapons and equipment onboard and was now soaring over the northern Sanus coast in luxury with flight attendants coming by every now and then to ask if she was hungry or thirsty. She nibbled on local sweets and sipped a fizzy seltzer beverage, enjoying their unique tastes.

As she popped another treat into her mouth, Yuria turned to look out over the calm ocean far below. For such a large atmospheric flier, the airship was making good time. They had left Vale some five hours ago and, if the captain's last vox-announcement was accurate, they would soon be in Vacuo controlled airspace. She hoped they were.

The twins had learned a great about Remnant and its people while in Vale. They had classified documents, profiles on important government officials, even records of Huntsmen registered in Vale. In addition, they had gained the allegiance of nearly every Imperial cult in Vale and a significant portion of the city's overall population as a result.

Vale was only one kingdom, however. True, securing Vale would be their primary objective when Kress returned with the Black Lions, but they would still have the other kingdoms to contend with. Intelligence was required, first-hand.

While Yole ensured their foothold in Vale was secure, Yuria would perform reconnaissance on the rest of Remnant's governments. She would spend a week or so in each kingdom's capital city, gauge their defenses and military strength as well as determine what they might have to offer the Imperium once they were made compliant.

She had chosen to head to Vacuo first due to its close proximity to Vale. Sanus was the only continent on Remnant that supported two kingdoms, so the subjugation of Vacuo would be imperative to ensure complete Imperial control over Sanus. Along with this, Yuria had heard rumors from the priests in Vale regarding Vacuo that she wished to confirm for herself.

" _Attention all passengers, this is your captain speaking. We are pleased to inform you that we are now entering Vacuo controlled airspace. We still have about another hour until we reach our destination, so sit back, relax, and thank you for choosing Royal Blue Airlines."_

Yuria smiled at the captain's words. Only one more hour till they reached Vacuo. She rolled up and put away the bag of candies she had received and pulled out the Scroll she received from one of the Vale priests. Her brother had a similar one. Long-range communication had been an obstacle for them in the past, but with Remnant's Cross Continental Transmit System it was barely even a hiccup.

When the signal bar was full, Yuria alerted her brother to her arrival with a brief text message. After a minute, he responded.

 _Be careful._

Yuria scoffed at the message and replied with something equally insulting, igniting a bitter war between the siblings that last for the rest of her flight.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

 **Author's Note: Just to clarify, Yuria was insulted that her brother thought she needed reminded, just wanted to clear that up. So, what did you all think? Did I do a good job portraying the space marines and the use of psychic powers? They are both things that I am worried I am handling incorrectly and would appreciate any sort of feedback.**

 **And for anyone wondering, the aesthetic design for Black Lions battle serfs is basically gray fatigues underneath black carapace armor styled in medieval designs. A red tabard bearing a roaring black lion's head, (like the ones you were in World of Warcraft), is worn over the chest piece, and their helmets are basically the omnishield helms worn by Tempestus Scions, only with a kettle helmet style top and the eye lenses are blue.**

 **Again, I am really sorry with how long this chapter took, even more so given how I took it down mere moments after originally posting it. I hope its good enough to make up for that fuck up of mine.**

 **As Always: Please, Fav, Follow, and Review! Thank You!**

 **DeadRich18 Out!**


	5. Chapter 4: Confrontation & Elimination

**I do not own RWBY or Warhammer 40,000, only my original characters.**

 **Hey guys. I am really sorry about the wait, school has kept me really busy and I have also been working a lot on my Warhammer armies. Speaking of which: HOLY SHIT! PRIMARIS REINFORCEMENTS INBOUND! I am so excited for shadowspear.**

 **But outside of that, I feel I should let you guys know that after the shitty cock tease of a season that was volume 6, I am dropping RWBY as a show of interest. The writers have made it abundantly clear that they don't actually care about the story, just the shipping that has taken over the fandom. That doesn't mean I am dropping Return of Faith though, don't worry, crossovers are the only way I can actually enjoy RWBY content nowadays and Warhammer crossovers allow for so much tomfoolery.**

 **And fuck Blake and Yang, they suck. Those girls are murderers now. They are not heroes, they are not good people. They are selfish, cold-blooded, killers who only care about themselves. Anyone who watches Eruptionfang will know why I hate these two.**

 **On brighter news, Grimm Heir will be returning soon, however, I will not be the main writer. My good friend DragonBlitz85 has taken it upon himself to write up the remaining chapters for me. I will only be the editor for that story. I know this will bum a lot of you out, but volume 6 just killed any interest I had for the rewrite, which is a shame, because I was going give both the Overlord and Silver the power to turn into dragons. Minor I know, but you wouldn't believe how much a small change like that changes everything.**

 **IMPORTANT NOTE AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER! PLEASE READ IT!**

 **Anyway, here's the chapter. I struggled a lot with this one because of the ending. Was originally going to be a lot longer, but I decided to put it into two chapters instead because you guys have waited way too long. Big thanks to my Beta-reader Pinkpower3612! He was a big help with this!**

 **Onto the chapter!**

* * *

 **Return of Faith**

 **Chapter Four: Confrontation & Elimination**

"Go in peace," With Mother Viole's closing words, the service ended. People stood and went to leave, though many of the cultists stayed to speak with the cult leader regarding the subject of her sermon. The whole place was abuzz with excitement and anticipation as they voiced their questions to her and her aides. The priestess did not even try to calm them down, the smile she sported showed she felt just as they did and saw no reason to quell their enthusiasm beyond reminding them to be quiet.

Not all stayed to ask questions, however. Some were content with knowing their prayers would soon be answered and so left the hidden place of worship with smiles on their faces and a spring in their step.

All save for one, that is.

He was the first to leave the hidden place of worship, playing off his haste as excitement toward what the priestess had said. In all honesty, he _was_ excited about it, because it was exactly what he had been waiting for.

I knew it, Simon Brass thought to himself. I knew they were up to something!

The man was a member of the Vale Police Department and specialized in undercover work. He was one of the guys they sent in to deal with the criminals that were too influential or sneaky to tackle head on. It fell to them to infiltrate crime syndicates, corrupt organizations, and, most importantly, illegal cults.

Until the Dust robberies and White Fang showed up, anyway.

Brass made it out of the alleyway in no time, following the clues and hidden signs left by the cultists to mark their way through the maze of concrete and steel. He felt the morning sun hit the side of his face the moment he walked out of the alley. After he made a quick check to see if anyone was behind him, he headed over to where his car was parked.

He wasn't supposed to be doing this. The Vale Council wanted the police focused on apprehending Roman Torchwick and stopping the White Fang before the Vytal Festival started. They didn't want Vale to look weak and incompetent in front of the other kingdoms, and he agreed with the decision in principal, but in practice it was beyond idiotic.

Dozens of investigations were put on hold or completely abandoned to meet the Council's demands, and even more were dropped after what happened on Saffron Highway a few nights ago. What he was doing right now went against Chief Muller's direct orders. Until the Vytal Festival was over, cleaning out cults of the Old Faith was considered low priority. It wasn't supposed to exist anymore, so why waste the manpower?

This is why he hated politicians. Too eager to sweep everything under the rug.

His car came into view, parked outside on of those Mistral-style restaurants. He pulled out his car key and hit the unlock button twice. He quickened his pace, eager to get to the station, when a white-haired man suddenly stepped out from a store in front of him. Brass was moving too fast and the man didn't notice him approaching. They collided. Brass's momentum pushing the stranger aside while the stranger reacted by swiping his arm at the cop, hitting his right side.

"What the fuck, man!?" The man snarled, glaring at Brass. "Watch where you're going next time!"

His accent was unlike anything Brass had heard before, and he was dressed in a dark leather jacket and jeans. He looked like your run-of-the-mill street-thug and Brass didn't want to waste anymore time dealing with some nobody, so he just gave the man a half-hearted apology before running over to his car and getting in.

He hit the ignition and started driving, cursing at how slow everyone was driving today. He needed to get this to Muller, orders be damned, this was more important than Roman Torchwick or the White Fang!

Originally, Brass planned to wait until the end of the Vytal Festival to come forward with his findings, give himself enough time to recognize and track down everyone in the cult while also making it look like he had followed Muller's orders to the letter. They'd take down a bunch of crazy fanatics, he'd get a medal and a pay raise, everybody wins.

But this sermon changed all that. Normally, the cult's leader, Mother Viole, would just babble on about the "God-Emperor" and how amazing he was, or whine about the "heretical" council and the "lies" they spread about the Old Faith.

She didn't talk about that today. Today, Viole talked about Angels.

Now, when a normal person thought of angels, they pictured beautiful women with wings and halos who played harps and lived on clouds. That was what normal people imagined. These crazy cultists on the other hand, believed angels to be massive, black-armored golems that wielded chainsaw-swords and giant guns and were capable of butchering entire hordes of Grimm in an instant.

And they wondered why people considered their religion dangerous.

Viole talked nonstop about the Angels, going on and on about how they purged Remnant of the Grimm and shared the enlightening wisdom of the "God-Emperor" with the primitive human tribes that wandered the planet thousands of years ago. Ten solid minutes were dedicated to the story of how the Grimm came to _fear_ the Angels and even went so far as to hide from them.

Brass had to resist rolling his eyes at how stupid it was. The Grimm didn't fear anything, they ate fear for breakfast.

He was just about to tune out the lady's crazy rambling when she said something that _really_ got his attention. It was still fresh in his memory and the main reason he was driving so fast.

He could see the police station now, just past the next traffic light. He slammed down on the car horn half a dozen times to try and get the cars in front of him to move faster. Hell, at this point, with it so close, he was tempted to just jump out of his car and run the rest of the way.

The light turned green before he could try however, and the car in front of him finally moved. He pulled his car in front of the station and got out. He didn't even bother turning the car off, he needed to tell Muller what he found, otherwise the whole city would-

The moment Brass' foot hit the cement sidewalk the smell of ozone hit his nose and heat blossomed in his right pocket. Before he could even think to check what it was, the heat erupted into a ball of all-consuming plasma energy that instantly incinerated Simon Brass and rendered his car into a heap of melting slag.

Pedestrians screamed in confused terror at the light and sound of the explosion prompting police officers to bolt out from the station in response only to halt in their tracks when they saw the aftermath. They handled the situation as best they could, cornering the scene off and keeping civilians back, but by then the Scrolls were out and recording.

By early afternoon, the story would be on every news network in Vale with each one unsure of what to make of such an unexpected and devastating attack on the kingdom's law enforcement. The explosion left no evidence behind save melted stone and metal, there wasn't even a body to examine.

It would not be until days later that the identity of the victim would be verified, but by then it would be too late and the purpose behind the attack would be chalked up to terrorism.

Just as intended…

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

"Did you hear something?"

Ruby shook her head at the question. "No. Why? Did you?" She turned to look at her blonde friend, his gaze looking southward.

"I thought I heard something, but," he shook his head with a slight sigh, "it was probably nothing."

"Okay." Ruby nodded her head and turned forward again, a slight spring in her step.

When Jaune had agreed to attend Father Carmine's service with her, Ruby had to restrain herself from leaping over the cafeteria table and hugging the life out of him. She hadn't gone to service with someone else since she left for Beacon, and even then, it was usually just her dad she went with. To be with someone her own age was just so exciting for Ruby.

She didn't let excitement get the better of her however, they still needed to be careful. She dared a glance toward the sky, spotting a squadron of Atlesian gunships as they flew over the skyline of the city. The general had stated on the news that the air patrols were just a precaution against possible Grimm attacks, ensuring the protection of Vale's citizens.

Ruby wanted to believe that was all the general intended, but Father Carmine warned against trusting the word of heretics.

She started taking different routes through the Back Alley since the Atlas warships showed up, just to be safe. Atlas was notorious among the hidden Faithful for its cruelty and ruthlessness in dealing with worshippers of the Emperor. Their presence here was just as much a threat to Vale's hidden Faithful as it was a sign of cooperation between the kingdoms.

She led Jaune toward one of the more lengthy and concealed pathways in the Back Alley. The many clothes-lines and old tarps that hung from the alley walls and windows would provide ideal cover from aerial observation, for a little while at least.

When they reached their way into the Back Alley, Ruby grabbed Jaune's arm and casually steered him toward the alleyway. He resisted a bit at first, surprised by the sudden contact, before going along with her. Once they reached the first turn that led into the Back Alley, she let go of Jaune's arm and peeked around the corner they came through to check for anyone that might have followed them.

When Ruby didn't see anyone, she turned to look back at Jaune. "Stay close to me, okay? It's really easy to get lost in here and if the Golden Crowns catch you alone, they might get the wrong idea."

A nervous expression crossed Jaune's face, "The Golden Crowns?"

Ruby winced, knowing how bad this would sound. "Yeah, they're, uh, they're the top gang in the Back Alley." She saw the worry on Jaune's face, and she rushed to explain. "D-don't worry! They won't do anything to you as long as you stay with me. They're members of the Faith too, so if they see you with me, they'll just think you're my guest, or something."

"And if they _don't_ think I'm your guest?"

Ruby opened her mouth but said nothing. If the Crowns didn't think Jaune was her guest, they'd treat him like they treated anything they didn't like: violently. If they didn't think he knew the location of the meeting place, they'd just beat him up and take his money, but if they did think he knew they'd probably kill him!

"Jaune," She said, locking her eyes with his own. "I swear, in the God-Emperor's name, I won't let anything happen to you here." The vow was spoken in a surprisingly serious tone. She wanted Jaune to understand that this place and its people were not to be feared, but to be embraced.

Jaune stared at her for a moment, then he blinked. A moment of conflict passed over his face before he sighed and gave her a small smile. "Okay."

Ruby beamed at him, happy he trusted her. "Then let's go!" And with that, she spun around and started walking down the alleyway with Jaune close behind her. Placing a hand over the Aquila necklace she had hidden beneath her blouse, Ruby felt something akin to anticipation surge through her.

Something told her this service would be one to remember!

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

Yole had been waiting by the alleyway when he heard it. That unique, distant boom. "Guess I owe Orbeck an apology."

Not that he would get one. The magos took every opportunity to boast about the effectiveness of his creations, even the untested ones. He was also remarkably petty for a techpriest, and if Yole even _tried_ apologizing for doubting his work Orbeck would never let him hear the end of it.

Still, he couldn't help but be impressed. For such a small device it was incredibly potent, the fact he could hear the explosion from this distance was proof of that. Plasma explosions always had a more muted tone to them. Yes, they were loud, but they didn't have that same ear-splitting punch that the more commonly used explosives had. Despite that, Yole still heard that tell-tale boom of a plasmatic detonation in the distance, as did many others.

The people of Vale looked in the direction the sound had come from, muttering in confused worry. They did not recognize the sound for what it was, such was their ignorance. Some even shrugged it off and walked away, convinced it was no concern of theirs. In a way, those callous individuals were correct, but not completely so.

As the people gawked and fretted over what the sound they heard was, Yole ducked inside the alleyway without any of them noticing. He followed the route the dead law enforcer had taken, relying on the many hidden clues the cultists used to mark their pathways. He encountered several of the cultists along his way, those who had stayed behind to talk with the priestess.

Most he passed made the Sign of the Aquila to him, though some of them, the warier ones, eyed the infiltrator with clear suspicion. He was an outsider after all, and years of persecution had taught them to be cautious of strangers. He approved of their caution toward him, it showed that not all the people on Remnant were docile idiots. They could still be fooled, yes, given how Brass had managed to worm his way into the cult, but that was no longer an issue.

Not that his case was especially unique. Simon Brass was just one of several threats both Yole and his sister had disposed of since coming to Vale. Most were just cult members they considered too problematic to let live, but Brass was the first actual mole Yole had dealt with, the first professional infiltrator this planet had to offer.

Needless to say, Yole hadn't been that impressed. Brass had been sloppy in his work, barely covered his tracks, didn't disguise himself, and used an alias so obvious that a child could tell it was fake. It was just… frustrating to watch more than anything, and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel satisfaction when he heard the boom.

In hindsight, the micro-plasma bomb may have been a tad overkill, but it ensured no evidence he had on his person was left to investigate. Better safe than sorry.

Speaking of which, Yole needed to head over to Brass' hab-building after this. The man probably had more evidence stored there and once he was identified by the local law enforcers – he refused to refer to them as Arbites – they would definitely search his residence. It would take them time thankfully, what with the lack of a corpse, but it was best not to tempt fate.

The secret entrance to the cult's meeting place came into view, an orderly stack of wooden crates that lined the left side of the alley. Yole strode up to the center of the stack and muttered the entry word. A click was heard behind them, and the front of the crates was pushed open as a young attendant opened the hidden door.

The attendant greeted him, but Yole paid him little mind as he stepped inside the space. The cult worshipped in what had once been an abandoned warehouse, now converted into a ramshackle church. Old benches were lined up like pews before a cloth-draped table and lectern, and calming incense filled the air. Symbols of the Imperial Creed lined the walls. Crude stain-glass depictions of the Emperor and Adeptus Astartes of the Black Lions chapter hung beside red banners bearing the golden Aquila, illuminated by homemade candles and old lumin-lights.

It was a rather impressive display to be honest, given the circumstances.

White-robed attendants scurried to-and-fro as he walked down the aisle, performing the tasks assigned to them by the priestess. Many were young, and most of them sported the animalistic features that marked them as belonging to the faunus subspecies. They were street urchins and runaways, unwanted and unloved until they were found by the cult. A hobby of the cult's head priestess, he had learned. She had a soft spot for abandoned children.

The woman in question stood at the lectern, reading a printed-copy of this world's interpretation of the Imperial Creed. She seemed entirely engrossed by the tome, ignorant to the rest of the world, until one noticed how the… extremity jutting from atop her head would twitch in the direction of any sound that was made.

She hadn't heard him yet, he made sure of that. It was only when he was close enough that she couldn't do anything if he pulled his autopistol on her that Yole allowed the priestess to hear his approach. The fox ear flicked toward him not even a second later, and the abhuman finally looked up from her book to notice the man.

The face of an aged vixen stared at the infiltrator with an expression of surprise that melted into recognition, then confusion, then realization. "Honored Herald," she greeted, making the Sign of the Aquila.

"Mother Viole," Yole returned the holy gesture then eyed one of the attendants working nearby. "May we speak in private?"

She nodded and led Yole toward what he assumed had once been the office of the warehouse's previous overseer. Nearly every priest in Vale lived in their cult's place of worship, and Mother Viole was no exception. She had transformed the office space into her personal living quarters, replacing the administrative equipment that once took up its space with a bed, a trunk, and holy talismans. The only things that marked the space as once belong to a warehouse overseer was the metal-wrought desk in the middle of the room and the two swivel chairs behind and in front of it.

She moved behind the desk but did not sit down. Neither did Yole. "It is done then?" She asked, her eyes not meeting the infiltrator's own, focusing instead on an old painting of a man holding an elaborate staff in one hand and broken chains in the other.

"Yes." Yole responded.

The faunus relaxed at his answer, bringing her hands up to her chest in the Sign of the Aquila as she offers a silent prayer. When she finished, she let out a small sigh, still looking at the painting. "Thank you."

Yole raised an eyebrow at her tone. "You sound disappointed."

"Do not misunderstand, Honored Herald," Viole explained, finally turning away from the painting to look at him. "I am glad that you have ensured the safety of my flock, but it saddens me that such drastic measure had to be taken." She adopted a melancholic expression then. "Perhaps, if I had learned of his deceit before you had, his death could have been avoided."

Yole resisted rolling his eyes at her naivety. The people of Remnant were so damn soft. How they had survived for this long against the Grimm, he would never understand.

"But," her features hardened suddenly, "he was a heretic and I will not mourn the death of a man who sought our destruction. You killed him for the sake of those I lead here in worship, to keep us from the clutches of the council's minions." She gave him a grateful smile. "And for that, I thank you."

"I only do what the Emperor asks of me," Yole responded, then looked at the painting. "One of your local saints?"

The question was made both out of curiosity and obligation. The twins' primary objective was to gather as much information on Remnant's people as they could, and they had found very little on important religious figures like saints or prophets. Now was a perfect opportunity for Yole to correct that.

"Yes, the Emancipator, Saint Abraham Luther II," she answered, her tone one of reverence. "His actions led to the abolishment of slavery in the Kingdom of Vale, allowing faunus to live free within its borders for the first time in history. It is said he would strike the chains off every slave he came across and that his faith in the Emperor was so great that no Grimm dared approach him."

"Impressive," Yole said, careful not to sound like he accepted or denied her claims she made about the saint. In all likelihood, they were exaggerations used to enhance the Church's image and influence. Everyone loved a divine hero, after all, especially the downtrodden.

"Yes," Viole agreed. "Impressive is a way to describe what he accomplished. And despite that, despite all the good he did, he has been all but forgotten thanks to the Heretic King, his deeds attributed to lesser men." She gestured with her hand, "This painting is the only one of its kind to survive the King's purge. A relic, from a better time."

"That time will come again, Priestess," Yole assured her, his voice soft and comforting. She smiled at him, believing his false sincerity. "I must go. Thank you for sharing your saint's story with me."

"It was my pleasure, Herald," she made the Sign of the Aquila. "May the Emperor be with you, always."

"And also, with you, Priestess." And with that, Yole left Viole's quarters and made his way toward the exit. A few of the attendants watched him leave with curiosity in their eyes. He ignored them. When he was outside, Yole felt like having a lho-stick but decided against it and started walking out of the alley.

Yole needed to remain focused, he still needed to destroy any evidence Brass might have hid in his apartment and having a lho-stick now would only hamper him. Maybe he'd have one afterwards, as a reward.

When Yole was out of the alleyway, he saw that the confusion from the explosion had passed and the people of Vale went about their daily lives as if nothing was wrong. He scowled at their ignorance and headed north toward the hab-building where the dead enforcer lived.

As he walked his gaze fixed on one of the Atlas airships looming over the city. It was an impressive vessel, with a sleek and predatory appearance. It had nothing on an Imperial Cruiser like the _Solaire's Light_ of course, but there was something about the warship that demanded respect.

Which was more than could be said about Vale's pathetic excuse for law enforcers.

Yole smiled as the warship passed by, thinking of how he might go about infiltrating such a vessel. It probably had a treasure trove's worth of military information stored within its cogitator-banks that would benefit their plans significantly.

It wouldn't even be that difficult. A simple in and out job. Still, while the reward would be worth it, he couldn't afford the risk, not right now. He'd wait until Yuria returned from her little tour before trying anything. They worked best working together anyway.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

"We're here." Ruby announced, but when all Jaune saw was an empty dead-end, he couldn't help but look confused.

"Uh, are you sure we didn't take a wrong turn?" He asked with a tone that he hoped sounded more humorous than doubtful. The path they had taken had been a long one, full of more twists and turns than Jaune could count. He had been amazed by how easily Ruby navigated it, never once pausing in her stride to second guess herself, knowing exactly which turns they needed to take… however, their current location seemed to challenge that.

But Ruby only smiled knowingly at the blonde swordsman before skipping over to large dumpster and knocking on its side five times. Jaune walked over to her just in time for a small part of the dumpster to slide away, revealing two blue eyes that darted between the two teenagers.

Jaune recoiled a bit in surprise, but Ruby stood her ground. With a smile, the hooded girl reached into her black blouse and pulled out a string necklace, attached to which dangled a small, twin-headed eagle with its wings spread wide. The man eyed the eagle for a moment, leveled a glare at Jaune, then slammed the slide shut. For a moment, he thought they had been denied entry, then he heard the distinct sound of multiple locks being removed, before the entire side of the dumpster slid away to reveal a man standing inside.

He was dressed like a gang member, wearing mostly grey clothes with distinct yellow details. He had a wiry build and a crooked nose, and his eyes glared at Jaune with obvious distrust. "You bring an outsider to this place, Sister Rose." It was a statement but spoken like an accusation, and Jaune felt sweat building along his brow. The man wasn't big like Cardin, but he was more intimidating than the leader of Team CRDL could ever hope to be.

"I bring a friend to join me in worship," Ruby said, and Jaune once again found himself amazed by the younger girl. There wasn't a shred of fear in her voice. "He is not our enemy, we can trust him."

The man stared at Ruby for a moment, then looked over at Jaune, eyes narrowed. The blonde flinched at the intensity in his eyes, reminded of Weiss' own icy glare. When the man finally stepped aside and gestured for them to enter, he couldn't stop from letting out a relieved sigh.

Ignoring the glare the man was still giving them, Ruby led Jaune inside the dumpster and through the hole in the wall it kept hidden. The sight that greeted him wasn't one he had been expecting. It looked more like a rundown homeless shelter than a cult meeting place. Many of the people inside looked like they had just come off the street, dirty and disheveled with some showing clear signs of illness. There were even some small children, huddled over in a corner playing with some toys.

One of the kids, a dog-eared faunus boy, suddenly looked up from the game and noticed Ruby. He smiled and started running toward them but stopped when he saw Jaune. The boy's eyes went wide, and he pointed accusingly at the older teenager.

"Who are you?" He asked loudly, earning the attention of every person in the room. Dozens of eyes fixed on the blonde outsider almost immediately, and Jaune couldn't help but flinch at the sheer intensity of so many suspicious eyes on him. He might have taken a step back in fear too, if Ruby hadn't placed her hand on his shoulder.

The silver-eyed brunette smiled reassuringly at him before turning to address the boy. "Oliver, this is Jaune, he's a friend of mine from Beacon." Jaune smiled nervously as Ruby introduced him to the boy.

Oliver just kept glaring at him, either unconvinced or unimpressed. He then scurried over to Ruby's side and motioned for her to bend down. She did so, and the boy whispered something into her ear that made the girl frown.

As that was going on, Jaune started fidgeting, uncomfortable with the number of distrusting gazes on him. He kept darting glances between Ruby and the crowd, terrified by the idea that she was the only thing keeping them all from doing more than just glaring at him.

"Jaune is not here to spy on us, Ollie," he heard Ruby say. "I asked him to come so he could know the Emperor's majesty and because I trust him." She looked over at him with a mischievous smile and whispered loudly to the boy. "Besides, he's too clumsy to be a spy!"

Jaune blinked at the tease, surprised by it. Oliver giggled and a few of the others watching also let out soft sounds of amusement. He blushed, and in a bout of shame blurted out: "A-at least I didn't blow myself up by sneezing!"

Now it was Ruby's turn to blush. "It was _one_ time!" she retorted childishly, causing everyone in the room to laugh at the two teens' bickering, evaporating the tension that had been building since the pair's arrival. When they finished laughing, most of the crowd went back to whatever they had been doing before. Jaune let out a sigh of relief as he felt his heart rate return to normal. That had been worse than initiation.

He looked back over at Ruby and Oliver, the later of whom had developed pouting expression, though he looked to be trying to hold back a smile. "W-well, I guess if Ruby says your good it's okay." He then jabbed a finger at Jaune. "But you better not tell anyone about this place, or the Emperor will smite you!"

"Who will the Emperor smite?" A kind voice asked.

Everyone in the room turned to the owner of the new voice, their hands crossed over their chest. Most of the people bowed their heads, but some of them – like Ruby – actually took a knee. Jaune was frozen were he stood, unsure of what to do or what just happened. As such, he was unprepared for Ruby to reach up and pull him down to kneel beside her. He went down with a yelp but managed to stop himself from faceplanting into the floor.

A gentle laugh rolled through the room. "Always so formal," the voice commented. "You honor this servant of the God-Emperor too much, my friends. Please, stand."

Everyone did as he said without question. Standing again, Jaune was able to get a look at the owner of the voice, and discovered him to be rotund, bald man. He looked like a monk, wearing nothing but a brown robe and string of red beads around his neck. The man had incredibly friendly and approachable disposition, but there was something else too, a certain… air to him.

Maybe it had something to do with the two intimidating gangsters flanking him.

"Now then," the man said, turning to look at Jaune. "Who is this young man and why is the Emperor going to smite him?"

Ruby grabbed Jaune's hand and pulled him over to the bald man. "Father Carmine," she began. "This is my friend Jaune Arc. Jaune this is Father Carmine."

Jaune gave a weak smile and nervous wave. "Uh, hi there."

The man known as Father Carmine chuckled. "No need to be so nervous, young man. You have nothing to fear." He held out his hand. "It is good to finally meet you, Jaune Arc."

Jaune stared at the offered hand for a second before taking it. The man's grip was surprisingly strong. "T-thank you." They broke the handshake. "You know me?"

Carmine nodded, a smile on his face. "Just a little. Enough to know you are a brave young man and wise enough not to believe the lies spread about us. Still, I will admit, your presence here is…" he shot Ruby a look, "unexpected."

Ruby winced under the priest's gaze and gave a forced laugh. Carmine raised an eyebrow at her and Jaune cringed. "Surprise?" She tried weakly, but it only made the priest shake his head in disapproval.

"Ruby," he started, then just sighed. "We shall discuss your penance after service. Right now, I would like to know why you thought it necessary to bring him here without telling us."

A brief moment of awkward silence fell over them before Ruby spoke. "Well… We're going to be going out on our first missions soon and I wanted Jaune to know the Emperor's love, but I wasn't sure how long we'd be both be away so I thought maybe I could bring him with me today?"

"And when did you make this decision?"

"This morning…" She winced, and so did Jaune. "B-b-but I had to do it! Jaune needed to know about his heritage and this was the perfect-" Ruby threw her hands over her mouth as she realized what she was saying, but it was too late.

"Your heritage?" Carmine asked, and Ruby looked over at Jaune with apologetic eyes. The blonde looked back at her with uncertainty and annoyance. He didn't want to tell these people, these strangers, anything about his family bloodline. But at the same time, he knew that if he didn't then both him and Ruby would be in serious trouble.

So, he straightened his spine, took a deep breath, looked Father Carmine dead in the eye, and told him: "I am a descendant of the Paladins of Vale."

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

 **Author's Note: Yup, another cliffhanger. Sorry about that, but this chapter was really hard to write. I wanted to keep going, but I also wanted it to end, something about this interaction was just so hard to write. Still, I hope you enjoyed it. I hope Yole was entertaining in this chapter, his scene was a lot of fun.**

 **Also, just to clarify about the saint and the slavery thing. He got rid of slavery ONLY in VALE. The other kingdoms (at least Mistral and Mantle, not sure about Vacuo) still use slavery by the time of the Great War. The saint was removed from history, and his deeds were attributed to people who were not connected to the church. I hope that cleared things up, but if you want to know more, please contact me.**

 **IMPORTANT QUESTION HERE!**

 **So, I actually meant to ask this last chapter, but forgot to add it in the author's note. You see, I am debating whether or not I should have Ruby's weapon still be a scythe. This is because her uncle Qrow is not the most sympathetic toward the Faithful, being one of Ozpin's pawns, and has made his thoughts toward the Faith clear. He has tried to get Ruby and Yang on his side, but only got Yang to listen while Ruby doubled-down with her father. This is why I am thinking of having Crescent Rose be a different weapon. She doesn't idolize her uncle like she did in the canon, and I feel like that should be visible in her choice of weapon.**

 **If you think she should still have a scythe, I understand, and even have a scenario to how Qrow ends up training her, but I feel like I will need a pretty good argument for it.**

 **What weapon do you think Return of Faith Ruby should use? I am partial to her using a pole weapon, like a polearm, long-axe, pole-axe, or halberd, but maybe you think she should have something different. PLEASE let me know what you think in a review or PM.**

 **I apologize in advance if the wait for the next chapter is as long as this one!**

 **As Always: Please, Fav, Follow, and Review! Thank You!**

 **DeadRich18 Out!**


	6. Chapter 5: A Call to Arms

**I do not own RWBY or Warhammer 40,000, only my original characters.**

 **I HAVE RETURNED! Sorry for the wait, graduation is around the corner for me and I've been busy with papers. I actually had about half of this done since last week, I was just too focused on school to finish it. I'm real happy with how this turned out, but I do have fears I might not have worded things as best as I could. Please let me know what you think in a review.**

 **Big shout out to my beta-reader, Pinkpower3612, he's been a real big help with juggling ideas around and making sure everything in the story checks out. Also, I apologize for the crappy title, I had no idea what to call this chapter.**

 **Anyway, Onto the chapter!**

 **THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN SIGNIFICANTLY EDITED FROM ITS ORIGINAL VERSION!**

 **Return of Faith**

 **Chapter Five: A Call to Arms (EDITED)**

Alexander sat and listened as the Inquisitor recalled his discovery and investigation of the planet known as Remnant. For a full hour, he spoke of the world, pausing only in anticipation of a possible question raised by either the Chapter Master, Reclusiarch, or Chief Librarian. They provided him with none. The three lords of the Black Lions were silent as statues as Kress spun his tale, content to let him speak before giving their thoughts on the information provided.

And speak he did. Kress told them of the psychic song that drifted into the mind of his acolyte, Kara Storell, as well as his ship's navigator and astropaths. He spoke of how it led them to a world orbited by a shattered moon and inhabited by humans who harbored strange and powerful abilities. He spoke of its four kingdoms, of the abhumans known as faunus, of the psycho-reactive mineral called Dust… and of the Daemons known as Grimm that prowled the planet's surface.

Hate swelled within Alexander's hearts at the mention of such abominations, but there was also cautious curiosity. The Creatures of Grimm described by the Inquisitor sounded oddly… tame for Daemons. They were regarded more as a nuisance than an outright threat by the planet's governments, only truly dangerous to small settlements or when they gathered in large numbers. Indeed, the more he spoke of them, the more Alexander likened them not to the Daemons of the Warp, but to the Beasts of Salem's cursed Deepwood.

The Inquisitor mentioned that the planet had become enlightened to the existence of the God-Emperor through the arrival of a force of Black Lions, thousands of years ago. If it this claim proved true, Alexander wondered if his forebears made the same comparison as he did. Perhaps they saw a world not unlike fair Salem, and beheld a people beset by bloodthirsty monsters, just as Salem's children were.

The reason for their involvement was irrelevant now. All that mattered was that this world no longer accepted the glory of the Emperor's Light.

Alexander felt his hands curl into fists when the Inquisitor reached this portion of his tale. Kress told them what his spies had learned, how the Emperor's Faithful were blamed for starting a decade long war, how they were made scapegoats by all sides of the conflict, and now hid in the shadows like rats.

The Chapter Master kept his expression neutral through it all, but fury and disgust welled inside him. The Emperor's Angels of Death had come to Remnant, delivered them from the jaws of Daemons and raised them into the Emperor's all-encompassing embrace, and they had the audacity to reject His most holy Word?

Such heresy could not be tolerated.

When Kress ended his tale, Alexander allowed a moment of silence to echo through the throne room. He cast his gaze to Agtheon. The Reclusiarch of the Black Lions inclined his head in a shallow nod, showing his support. He turned then to Syrus, his silver eyes meeting the gold of the Chief Librarian's own. A fierce curiosity swirled within those golden orbs, tempered by centuries of experience. He said nothing, for the look he gave told Alexander all he needed.

He turned back to the Inquisitor and his motely retinue. "You have my thanks, Inquisitor Kress, for bringing this information before me." He spoke calmly, allowing none of the fury he felt to creep into his voice. "If you seek the Black Lions' aid in reclaiming this world, know that you have it. The world of Remnant shall learn the consequences of turning away the Emperor's Light!"

Though hidden beneath the stylized respirator keeping him alive, Alexander knew Kress was smiling. It was clear in the way his brow relaxed, how his eyes brightened, the slight rise of his mask that hinted to the tightening of cheek muscles. Then again, that was likely just what he wanted Alexander to believe. He was a member of the Inquisition, after all. Duplicity and deception were as natural to their kind as breathing.

Kress bowed his head to the Chapter Master. "I am pleased to hear so Chapter Master," he rasped, voice corrupted by the snarl of his silver skull-mask. "Orbeck?"

A slender mechadendrite slithered out from the Tech-Priest's crimson robes, a data-slate clutched in its machine grip. The metal tendril offered the slate to the Inquisitor, who accepted the device without complaint or gratitude. "A more detailed compilation of Remnant and its kingdoms," he explained, holding it out for the three Astartes to see. "It describes all we have learned about the planet, two weeks' worth of information gathered by two of my top operatives."

Syrus stepped down from the dais to retrieve the data-slate, the servos in his armor purring with each step he took. The old Librarian towered over the masked Inquisitor, looking down upon him like a grown man looked down upon a child. Impressively, he was unmoved by the approach, though the same could not be said of his retinue.

The young psyker and the Freeblade were the most visible in their reaction, each taking a step back and the latter's hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of the sword sheathed at his hip. The Tech-Priest remained where he stood, the only indication of any interest he had being the minute adjusting of two of his five bionic eyes.

Syrus held out his hand to receive the data-slate, which the Inquisitor provided without fuss. When he returned to his place at Alexander's left side, he handed his liege the device. Alexander skimmed through its contents briefly, making note of several key terms and locations, before placing the data-slate on his throne's armrest. He pressed several keys on the command panel of his throne, prompting a hidden door to open and a black-robed serf to walk out.

"I must confer with my brothers now, Inquisitor. You've left us with much to discuss." The Chapter Master gestured to the serf who bowed to the Inquisitor and his retinue. "No doubt you are tired. Reyne shall take you to the guest chambers where you may wait and rest until I call for you."

"Thank you, Chapter Master," Kress said bowing his head in respect. "By your leave." Alexander nodded and watched silently as the serf lead the Inquisitor and his followers out of the throne room. The Tech-Priest's mechanical 'legs' clicked and clanked across the stone tiles of the chamber, hiding the softer footfalls of his companions and guide.

When the mural-covered great doors of the throne room closed shut behind the visiting members of the Inquisition, Alexander turned to his Chief Librarian. "Syrus, I want you to search the chapter records for any mention of a world with a shattered moon. If we truly visited Remnant as the Inquisitor claims, I want to know why it was not brought into the Imperial fold."

Syrus bowed his head, "It will be done, my liege."

"Galwayne," Alexander said, looking to the fourth captain. "Send word to your fellow captains to meet in the war room immediately. Inform them that the Emperor has need of us once again."

The captain folded his hands over the visage of Nameless Saint on his chestplate. "By your will, my liege."

As the captain and Librarian left to accomplish their tasks, Alexander rose from his throne. The servos and fiber-bundles of his artificer power armor purred softly as he stood from his seat of office. He grabbed the Inquisitor's data-slate as he did so, giving it a cursory glance before turning to face the Reclusiarch of the Black Lions. "What do you make of it, Agtheon?" He asked.

The minute temperature drops that occurred during the meeting had told the Chapter Master what the old Librarian thought of the whole thing, and he had watched Galwayne's scowl deepen with every sentence spoken. No such signs were given by Agtheon, he was too disciplined to allow his feelings on the matter show.

It is for this reason that Alexander smiled when Agtheon gave him his answer.

"Spare no traitor."

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

"This way my lords, my lady," instructed the serf, Reyne, as the great doors of the throne room closed behind them. It was spoken with polite courtesy, but before any of them could respond the woman turned and made down the corridor, she had indicated not a second earlier. At first, Kara assumed the serf simply felt the same as Captain Galwayne and was displeased by their presence in the fortress monastery. A quick mental probe told the psyker otherwise, however.

Reyne didn't care that she was leading an Inquisitor and his retinue through the home of the Black Lions, she merely wished to accomplish the task assigned to her as quickly and competently as possible. That did not mean the serf was wary of the Inquisitor or his people – she knew full well the authority wielded by Kress – but such thoughts had been pushed to the back of her mind, unwelcomed distractions from the task at hand.

Reyne barely spoke as she led them through the labyrinthine hallways of the Black Lions' grand castle, breaking her silence only to answer the few questions raised to her by Kress, Artoris, and Orbeck. Kara said nothing as they walked. She was too busy taking in the architecture of the complex, the unique aesthetic of it all. It brought back memories of Duke Buraspire's manor on Welno.

An investigation into a smuggling operation had led Kress to Welno where one of the Imperial nobles, a man by the name of Duke Mathew Luis Shon Buraspire offered the Inquisitor and his retinue lodging for the duration of their investigation. The Buraspire estate had been the most luxurious and extravagant thing Kara had ever seen in her life, something she would never have had the opportunity to see let alone enter had Kress not recruited her two months prior.

Castrum Argalus dwarfed that manor in both scale and majesty. Where the duke's home had been a monument to his family's wealth and influence, Castrum Argalus was monument to the might of the Imperium and the God-Emperor Himself. Here His chosen warriors trained themselves, honing their skills to perfection before unleashing their fury upon Mankind's innumerable foes.

Besides, anyone with enough clout and money could enter the home of an Imperial nobleman, but only a handful can say they had the privilege of walking the halls of an Adeptus Astartes fortress monastery. It made the psyker think back to before Kress had come into her life, when she was bullied and shunned for the powers she possessed.

How things have changed since then, Kara thought to herself. Still think I'm nothing but a useless freak, Shira?

For the rest of the trip, she was content with listening to Reyne answer whatever questions her companions had while also admiring the scenery of the fortress monastery. It took roughly thirty minutes for them to reach their destination, and a part of Kara believed it would have taken them far longer if Reyne was not guiding them. The serf brought them to what looked like a dormitory hall with several doors lining both sides of the corridor.

Reyne then showed them each to their respective rooms, telling them when and how they would receive their meals, and what areas of the monastery they would have access to during their stay. "Lord Castimere has seen fit to allow you and your retinue full access to the chapter's training halls and terrarium," she told them. "Should you wish to visit either of these areas, there is a call button in each of your rooms that will summon a serf to escort you to your destination."

And make sure you don't go where you are not permitted.

It was left unsaid but not unnoticed. Kara heard the thought as clearly as if it had been spoken aloud but held her tongue on the matter. Her master had told her that Space Marines were not ones to allow outsiders free reign of their home, even if they were "friends" of the chapter like her master.

Just because they owed him a favor didn't mean they trusted him after all.

"Thank you, miss Reyne. I think we can handle ourselves from here," Kress said. The serf bowed her head in acknowledgement, turned on her heels, and walked away. When they could no longer hear the sound of her footsteps, Kress ushered all of them inside his room.

The suite was a moderately sized room with a four-poster bed, circular rug, two bureaus, a wooden desk, several cushioned chairs, and a small shrine of the God-Emperor. A closet took up space on the room's left side, next to which was a door that Kara guessed led into an ablutory.

She stepped out of the way as Orbeck scuttled inside, searching for hidden surveillance devices like a bloodhound on the hunt. Artoris went over to the room's shrine and folded his hands over his chest, offering a small prayer to the Emperor before taking a seat in one of the cushioned chairs. It groaned in protest beneath the weight of his armor, but only for a moment. Kara took her place in the chair adjacent to Artoris's own, happy to finally sit down after so much standing around.

Kress closed the door and locked it before walking over to stand next to the desk, saying absolutely nothing as he examined the wooden furniture.

"That went well," Kara said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

"Incredibly so!" Artoris agreed, then looked at her. His face remained hidden beneath his helm, but Kara could sense his excitement. "You have never seen Space Marines fight before."

She had never even seen a Space Marine until today, let alone seen one fight. He knew this, but kept talking anyway, taking her silence as que to continue.

"It is something I lack the vocabulary to properly describe. Majestic and dreadful, inspiring and terrifying. This is the best I can do, but even these words cannot fully express the experience of watching Space Marines due battle with the Imperium's enemies."

"Commentary: You speak as if you are not the pilot of a Knight-Titan," interrupted Orbeck, his mechanical monotone voice somehow disapproving. "Have you no respect for the holy machine?"

" _Abysswalker_ is my mount and armor, my lance and shield," Artoris replied, appearing insulted by the magos' accusation. "Do not doubt the bond I hold with my knight again, Magos, or I will – "

"Enough, Artoris, Orbeck!"

"Statement: I have uploaded the prepared conversations to all eight surveillance bugs inside the room." Orbeck announced as he retracted his mechadendrites and looked at the Inquisitor. "We may speak freely now, Inquisitor."

Immediately, the tension that had been rising between the knight and magos evaporated as the purpose behind their argument was achieved. Now, instead of recording their real conversation the vox-thieves would be subject to at least twelve-and-a-half hours of false conversations they had prepared while in transit to Salem.

Kress had insisted on them having some semblance of privacy to discuss confidential matters should circumstances force them to stay on Salem for an extended period of time, something that seemed a certainty if what Reyne had told them about the Games was accurate.

With the threat of eavesdroppers dealt with for now, Kress nodded to Orbeck, pulled out the chair pushed into the desk, and took a seat so that he was facing all three of them. Kara was not sure what it was that Kress wanted to speak to them about that he deemed it necessary to trick their hosts like this but knew than to question his reasons, even if they were sometimes the result of misplaced paranoia.

"Now then," He began cordially, though his mask hid it well. "Let us discuss what shall become of Remnant once we have what we seek."

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

 _Dear Yang, Blake, and Weiss,_

 _I am going into Vale for the day to buy some extra supplies for our mission tomorrow and to pick up my dress from the rental store. Yes, Weiss, I shouldn't have left it to the last minute, thank you for reminding me. Sorry if you wanted to come with me, but I thought you guys could use the rest, given everything we've been through. Looking at you, Blake!_

 _And don't worry, I'll be back around three, so I'll have plenty of time to get ready for the dance. See you guys later, and don't wait up for me._

 _Sincerely: Ruby_

 _P.S. If they ask, please tell Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren that Jaune is with me. Not like that, Yang, he needed to pick some stuff up too, it's not a date. I repeat, we are only getting some supplies, we are_ not _on a date!_

"They are _so_ on a date," Yang smirked as she read over her sister's note for the fifth time.

"definitely," Agreed her partner before taking a bite of her lunch. The Faunus girl was already looking much better than she had yesterday. A solid nine hours of sleep had done Blake some serious good, just like Yang knew it would.

Weiss huffed at her two teammates. "Please, there is no way they are on a date. Ruby's too focused on becoming a Huntress to allow herself to be distracted with going out with boys. And Jaune is…. Jaune." She spoke in that aristocratic way she always did, talking like what she said was indisputable fact.

Yang grinned wolfishly at the heiress. "Jealous, Ice Queen?"

The reaction Weiss gave was just what she expected. The Atlesian's pale skin went tomato red and adopted a scandalized expression as she sputtered out a retort. "N-no! W-why would I-!? What on Remnant do I have to be jealous about!?"

Yang howled with laughter ignoring the pointed glare Weiss was giving her. Blake rolled her eyes at the two, hiding a smile.

The three teammates were the cafeteria, having their lunch. They had all allowed themselves to sleep in past the school's breakfast hours, Blake because she had promised she would get some rest – and not realizing how much she actually needed it until her head hit the pillow – and Yang and Weiss because they wanted to get some beauty sleep for tonight's big dance.

All expect for their young leader Ruby, who had left the dorm early with only a note to let her teammates know what she was up to.

She did this sort of thing every Sunday, and her team had eventually accepted it as normal for the young Huntress-in-training. They'd wake up, find her note, and go about their day until she came back with bags full of bullets and comic books. Yang would ask how it was, Weiss would berate her for wasting money on comics, and Blake would say nothing out of respect for her leader's privacy.

This was the first time Ruby had taken someone with her on one of her Sunday excursions, however. Before, she would always insist on going alone, and in the few times one of them woke up early enough to catch Ruby and accompany her to the city she would be in a sour mood for the rest of the day.

But this time, Ruby had brought Jaune with her, and without any complaint judging by the writing on the note. Yang wasn't dumb, she knew her sister had been meeting with the leader of JNPR a lot since the second semester started, as did her two teammates. Weiss had insisted the two were merely trading strategy and combat moves, while Blake opted to withhold her opinion on the subject entirely, but Yang knew what was happening here. She saw what was going on between those two, how they met in secret all the time, talking in hushed tones and checking to make sure nobody saw them…

It was clear, without a shadow of a doubt, that Ruby and Jaune were dating.

Yang was so proud of her baby sister! Social interaction was never Ruby's strong suit, but here she was, with a boyfriend of her very own! Oh, that didn't mean Yang wasn't going to pummel the crap out of Vomit Boy when they officially announced their relationship – the two had gone behind her back after all. For now, though, Yang was content to let the young lovers enjoy their day together.

Yang stretched her arms over her head, ignoring Weiss' tirade as she thought of how she was going to tease her sister when she got back.

Hope your date is going well, sis, she thought with a smile. And that you're staying out of trouble!

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

Ruby's eyes darted nervously between Jaune and Father Carmine as she silently lamented how poorly she had handled this whole thing.

Damn her impulsivity! What had she been thinking!? Ruby knew how the procedure for bringing in new members worked and why they had to be so careful when recruiting, but the thought of Jaune accepting the Emperor's Light and the excitement of going on their first mission tomorrow had blinded her. By the time she realized the consequences of her actions, it was too late to go back, at least, that was how she saw it.

This wasn't the first time Ruby's rashness had gotten her in trouble. It had nearly cost the young girl her life during Beacon's initiation, as well as cost her a few sparring matches she should have been able to win. This was by far her worst blunder yet, however. Before, it had only been herself that her impulsivity endangered. This time, it was her friend.

She should have at least let Father Carmine know she was thinking of brining Jaune with her, that way she at least had a halfway decent excuse for bringing him. But Ruby had no excuse for her behavior, nothing passable anyway. And now, Jaune had been forced to reveal his family heritage to complete strangers, once again because of her own stupidity.

Some friend she turned out to be…

"The Paladins," said Father Carmine, breaking the tense silence that had filled the room following Jaune's declaration. "You claim to be a descendant of our faith's holiest warriors? The shield and sword of our church?"

The priest spoke accusingly, inciting the crowd of gathered Faithful to narrow their eyes at the blonde Beacon student. Jaune swallowed, "I do."

Carmine raised a hairless eyebrow at him. "Your proof?"

Jaune blinked and looked down at Crocea Mors. Looking back up at the priest, Jaune carefully pulled the sheathed sword from his belt and offered it to him. "This sword belonged to Julius Arc, my great-great-grandfather," he told Carmine as the priest took hold of the weapon with both hands, nearly dropping it in surprise from how heavy it was. "He fought in the Great War with that sword, as one of Vale's Paladins."

Father Carmine pulled Corcea Mors from its shield-scabbard and ran his fingers across the flat of the blade. He stared at it with scrutiny, and Ruby bit her lip as the priest peered closer at her friend's sword like a jeweler examines a diamond.

He squinted at something then and moved over to a part of the room with better light. People moved out of his way like parting waves. Ruby and Jaune followed hesitantly behind, staying close to each other as one of the Golden Crowns brought out his Scroll and pressed the flashlight function on it. Sterile white light bathed Crocea Mors, and Father Carmine thanked the gangster before looking back down at the sword.

"Sic… Semper… Ty-ran-nus…" He said the words clumsily, unused to them. The closest followers started to whisper at what he said. Carmine then looked back at Jaune and Ruby. "The engraving upon the blade is very worn, but still legible. This sword is indeed a weapon of the Paladins, for only they were allowed to have phrases of the Sacred Tongue etched upon their blades."

The whispers turned into full-blown murmuring and Ruby cast her eyes at Jaune, holding her breath. Did this mean…?

Father Carmine sheathed Crocea Mors and walked over to the two teenagers. Then, with a gentle smile on his face, he offered the sword back to Jaune. "Welcome, Jaune Arc, scion of the Paladins, to our hidden church."

YES! Ruby bounced in place with big, toothy smile on her face. She was just barely keeping her relived excitement in check, and she had to stop herself from glomping Jaune to the floor. The blonde noticed her delight and cracked a relieved smile of his own before turning back to the priest.

With a grateful nod of the head, Jaune took back his family's sword, fastening it to his belt. With the weapon no longer in his hands, Father Carmine turned to address the crowd of onlookers surrounded them. "My friends," he started, his hands raised up as he addressed everyone. "Let it be known that this young man is not our enemy, but a fellow outcast. He too hides his true self from the world, just as we all do, and for the same reasons we do. Look at him not as your foe, but embrace him as your brother, and let no harm befall him while he is here."

"Yes Father" and "of course" echoed through the crowd and the suspicion toward Jaune started to fade from the room, pushed away by the priest's assurances. Ruby placed her hands over her chest, trying to calm down her pounding heart. Jaune placed a hand on her shoulder. Father Carmine continued talking.

"Now come, my friends, the time of worship is now." He looked back at Jaune, smiling serenely. "Let us show our guest what it was his ancestors protected, all those years ago."

With the mood sufficiently lifted, Father Carmine led everyone out of the dilapidated building and into the courtyard outside. Jaune started to move, but Ruby grabbed his arm, making him stopped. She held him there until everyone had passed them, leaving the two teenagers at the rear of the procession. She let him go then, and the two walked outside with the rest of the Faithful.

"I'm really, really, _really_ sorry about all that Jaune," she whispered to him, finally able to voice her remorse for her impulsive actions. "I didn't mean for any of that to happen, I-I was just so excited, and I had just woken up, and I didn't know if I'd be able to take you later because of our missions and the Vytal Festival-"

"Ruby," he whispered back, cutting her off.

"Yes?"

"The next time you want to bring along to meet your secret cult," he turned to look at her, fixing his blue eyes with her silver ones. "Give them a heads-up, okay?"

She winced but nodded that she understood.

The rest of the short walk was made in silence. The climbed down the stairs and entered the basement church where everyone else had already taken their places. As the last to arrive, the two had to take seats in the back row, just reaching them as Father Carmine began his service.

"O, Heavenly Father," He recited, "hear our prayers. We gather in this hidden place today to offer you our worship, so that you may know that we have not forgotten the lessons your Angels imparted onto us."

"We remember you, O Lord," all of them intoned, save for Jaune.

"We gather in this hidden place today to offer you our eternal thanks, for sending us your Angels to visit wrath upon the daemons that infest our world and for the illumination they brought to us, so very long ago."

"We thank you, O Lord."

"We gather in this hidden place today to offer you our faith, for we await the day when you will send your Angels to us again, so that they may burn away the corruption that has settled in their absence."

"We await you, O Lord."

"We gather in this hidden place today to offer you our love, for you are the true father of Mankind and it is right for children to love their parent."

"We love you, O Lord."

Father Carmine spread his arms wide and raised them to the ceiling, his head bowed. "May our humble prayers reach you, O Lord of Mankind, and may you smile warmly upon us." He brought his hands down to his chest and folded them over his sternum in the Mark of the Aquila. "The Emperor protects."

Everyone repeated both the gesture and the ending line: "The Emperor protects," before filling the basement with gentle hymns.

As the service went on, Ruby snuck glances toward Jaune, gauging his reaction to it all. At first, he was just mildly interested, wordlessly going along with the prayers and songs, as if he was just waiting for it to run its course. Ruby guessed his experience up top had soured his first impressions of them quite a bit. But as time went on and Father Carmine began preaching about the Angels and how they came to Remnant, Jaune's face adopted a look of great interest. Halfway through the service and he was leaning forward in his seat, giving the bald man more attention than he gave any of the teachers back at Beacon.

Ruby smiled and turned her full attention back to the priest. She wasn't too surprised by Jaune's reaction to the man. Father Carmine was an incredible speaker. Unlike Professor Ozpin when he addressed them the day before their initiation into Beacon, Father Carmine was passionate. Every word he spoke was full of zeal and piety, invoking great scene of battling Angels in the minds of everyone listening. He made them all feel as if they were really there, standing side by side with the God-Emperor's Angels as they faced down the hordes of Grimm.

For the next hour, the priest spoke about the Angels of the God-Emperor, his entire service revolving around them and their deeds. Ruby wasn't bothered by this, of course. She loved the stories about the Angels, like how they purged the world of Grimm then laid the bricks of the first church of the God-Emperor on Remnant.

It was truly inspiring.

Before she knew it, an hour had passed, and the service was winding down to its end. Father Carmine bestowed the last benediction upon them before raising his right hand to bid them farewell. "May the God-Emperor be with you all," he said.

Everyone intoned back, "and also with you," and Ruby felt a flurry of excitement rush through her as she heard Jaune's voice among the chant.

"Go in peace." With that, the assemblance began to dissolve in its usual slow fashion. Some immediately went back up the stairs to the courtyard above while others stayed behind to speak with the Father. The cellar was abuzz with chatter as the Faithful discussed the Father's sermon and other, more mundane topics. Ruby turned back to look at Jaune, noting with joy the expression he had adopted on his face.

"Ruby," she turned to see Father Carmine standing before her, a stern expression on his normally gentle features. Ruby wilted a bit under his gaze, remembering that she had broken a serious rule by bringing Jaune with her unannounced. "Are you prepared to receive your penance?"

Ruby turned to Jaune for a moment, noting his look of concern. She gave him a smile that didn't quite reach all the way, hoping it would reassure him, before turning back to the Father. "I am, Father Carmine."

The priest nodded. "Ruby Rose, though you acted with noble intentions, your actions put everyone here at risk and for that you must be punished. Ordinarily, I would have you fast for twenty days and meditate on your mistake. However," He looked into her eyes and Ruby saw some of his usual kindness in them, "due to your enrollment at Beacon such a penance would serve only to put you in danger of being discovered, something I will not abide. Instead, you shall meditate for one hour, every day for a month, on the teachings of the Angels."

Ruby blinked, surprised by the moderation of her punishment. She wasn't an idiot, regardless of whether or not she thought Jaune could be trusted with their secret, what she did had put everyone here at risk. Daily meditation sessions seemed too forgiving, even to her.

"I-is that all, Father?" She asked, her confusion creeping its way into her voice.

"No," he answered, "in addition to your meditation you will be forbidden from attending another service until you have slain one hundred Creatures of Grimm. Do you understand?"

Now _that_ was a far more appropriate penance for what she did. A hundred Grimm. She wasn't a slouch when it came to killing Grimm, but a hundred of them? Even for her that was a lot. Still, she had brought this on herself and she wasn't about to shy away from it now. Besides, she would be going on her first mission tomorrow and with any luck she'd be already be halfway through her penance by the time she came home.

"I understand, Father," and despite herself, Ruby couldn't keep the tremble out of her voice.

"Then, Ruby Rose, I cast you out from this holy place," he proclaimed sternly, though Ruby heard the hint of heartache in his voice and realized that this was hard for him as much as it was for her. "Until your labor is complete, you will be denied shelter and sanctuary here, and will not be welcomed back until the blood of one hundred daemons coats your blade."

The ceremonial decree hit home how serious her transgression had been. Until she had killed one hundred Grimm, Ruby would be denied from the one place where she could freely express her faith. Still, she only had herself to blame, and at least it seemed Jaune wouldn't have to worry about sharing her punishment.

So, Ruby accepted her penance with as much dignity as she could, "By the Emperor's Will."

"By the Emperor's Will." Father Carmine made the sign of the Aquila, which Ruby returned. The young Huntress-in-training then turned back to her blonde friend, an expression of shocked guilt clear across his face.

"Come on, Jaune. We should get going," Ruby looked back at the bald priest and bowed her head in farewell. "Have a good day, Father Carmine," she said in a small voice, turning to leave before he could reply.

"May the Emperor guide your blade and shield your soul against the Creatures of Grimm, Ruby Rose." A lump of regret and shame caught in Ruby's throat, but she pushed it down as she and Jaune climbed the stairwell out of the cellar and into the courtyard. Once they were outside, she threw her hood up and beelined it for the exit, Jaune close behind.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

"I'm sorry, Ruby."

It wasn't the best apology, but it was all Jaune could come up with, even after an hour-and-a-half to think on it. The silence had between them had just become too awkward for Jaune to bear. Ruby hadn't said a word since they left the basement service. No blaming Jaune for ruining everything for her or lamenting about her punishment, Ruby just kept her hood up and stayed quiet, even when they went to pick up her dress.

It didn't suit her.

The silver-eyed girl turned at his apology, her hood letting him see only a smile on that didn't reach all the way. "It wasn't your fault, Jaune."

"Yes, it is. If I hadn't come along, you would– "

"You wouldn't have come if _I_ hadn't asked you to," She argued back, her voice quiet as they walked onto the ferry's skydock. "I deserve my punishment, Jaune. What I did put everyone at risk. You can't just bring new members to a club without letting the club leader know first, after all." She paused to sit down on a bench, the bag with her dress resting safely in her lap. Then, in a voice that was disarming, stern, and reassuring all at once said, "So please don't blame yourself for my mistake, you've got enough to worry about with homework as it is."

Jaune blinked at her dismissal and choice of words. It took him a second to figure out that she was trying to be discrete about their activities by calling the cult a club, but the fact she refused to blame him for her punishment still surprised him.

No. No, it wasn't surprising, he corrected himself. Ruby wasn't the kind of person to hold a grudge, at least not over something serious, like this. She would take responsibility her mistake, learn from it, and strive not to make it again in the future.

"I'm still sorry about it," he insisted. Ruby didn't say anything back, her gaze on the bag in her lap. The awkward silence from before threatened to return, made worse by his sorry excuse for an apology. He needed to say something, not an apology, Ruby didn't need or want another apology.

He thought for a few seconds, figuring out what he should say to her. When it finally came to him, Jaune felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

"For what it's worth," he began, sitting himself down next to her on the bench, his voice just loud enough for her to hear him, "I had a good time."

He spoke the words with honest sincerity because, until her undeserved punishment, Jaune had been enraptured by the entire event.

Jaune had no idea what he had been expecting when Ruby asked him to come with her to meet her cult. Sure, he knew people that worshipped the Emperor back home, neighbors and friends of his family, but they worshipped Him in their homes, at little shrines hidden away from outsiders. There was no organization, no priests leading the people in prayer at scheduled hours.

It was… casual, for lack of a better term. A complete contrast to what he had taken part in not even two hours ago. In all honesty, Ruby's warnings on the way there and the standoff that occurred following their arrival had soured Jaune's expectations. After that, he had been prepared to listen to a furious, ranting speech, calling for the deaths of all the nonbelievers.

But there was no ranting speech, no call to cleanse the world of nonbelievers. Instead, the priest spoke of the Emperor's Angels, black-armored warriors that came to Remnant and cleansed its surface of Grimm. He spoke of the lessons they imparted onto the first disciples of the Faith, of their importance and application in today's world, as well as how they would one day return to Remnant and restore the Faithful to their rightful place, ushering in a new age of prosperity and peace.

And even though Jaune didn't consider himself a very spiritual person, he couldn't help but feel… something when he listened to the priest talk about the Emperor and His holy Angels.

At first Ruby didn't respond, simply sitting on the bench with her head bowed. For a second, Jaune worried he had made things worse, then she looked at him. From beneath her hood Ruby's gaze met his own, and he noted with some about of pride how her silver eyes had regained some of their original shine. She smiled at him, true and sincere. "I'm happy you liked it."

"Maybe, after your…" He opened his mouth to say 'penance' but closed it a second later. After a few moments of failing to convey what he meant through vague hand gestures, he simply said, "Uh, you know, is up… I could tag along again, maybe?"

Ruby's eyes seemed to sparkle, and her smile took on a more cheerful nature. "Of course."

"Just give them a heads up this time, okay? Wouldn't want a repeat of today, would we?"

Ruby giggled and shook her head. "Definitely not." Jaune smiled, happy he had managed to cheer her up. Silence fell over the two teens once more, only this time it was a comfortable sort, far removed from the awkward miasma that had clung to them only a few minutes ago. Soon the ferry came into dock and the two walked aboard after flashing their Scrolls to one of the ship's attendants, showing her that they were Beacon students.

As the ferry took of ten minutes later, Jaune felt his stomach lurch. He'd managed to get the worst of his motion sickness under control since coming to Beacon, but the young Arc still couldn't suppress a shudder as they lifted off into the sky. They were almost at the Beacon skydocks when Ruby spoke up.

"Hey, Jaune," He turned to her, eyebrow raised in anticipation of what she was about to say. "Do you have a… date for the dance yet?"

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

 **Author's Note: (REGARDING THE EDITS) For those who are rereading this, I hope you can understand why I changed the ending. Despite how much fun it was to write I couldn't help but feel like I could have done better than what I came up with. Also, I realized that while I mentioned Ruby's punishment for bringing Jaune to the cult without alerting anyone, I never mention it again. That is why I decided to change the ending to this chapter, I feel it fits better, better shows the growing relationship between Jaune and Ruby, and just adds a lot more than just hearing Carmine's speech. I hope you enjoyed the changes I made. (END OF TALK ABOUT EDITS)**

 **Welp… that took longer than it should have to get out. Can you believe that these last three or so chapters have all taken place IN THE SAME DAY!? Its too much! After this, time will start moving forward, don't you worry.**

 **Regardless of my misgivings, this was still a lot of fun to write. Next chapter things will finally start kicking off and we will be that much closer to the Black Lions' grand return!**

 **Also, I know some of you saw that piece of art I commissioned from Nemris over on DeviantArt, the one with the chapter master and chaplain. I love what he came up with, but looking back, I realized I was too vague with my description. I based Alexander's armor off both the Praetor forge world model and the Black Templar's Emperor's Champion model, with design leading more toward the champion than the praetor. However, due my own lack of detail, it came out the opposite. Still awesome, but its no longer the "canon look" for Alexander. And if you are all wondering why I didn't say something during the commission, its mostly because I felt I was unfit to correct him due to the fact that he's the experienced artist and I'm the writer who can't draw for shit. So, if your reading this Nemris, I apologize for not saying anything before, still love how it turned out, but I was just too afraid to say anything.**

 **And with that out of the way:**

 **As Always: Please, Fav, Follow, and Review! Thank You!**

 **DeadRich18 Out!**


	7. Chapter 6: Observation and Alteration

**I do not own RWBY or Warhammer 40,000, only my original characters.**

 **I LIVE! Return of Faith is back, and I am super sorry about the wait. This was tough chapter to write because I actually wasn't sure on what order to write it on, plus I was busy looking for jobs and reacclimating myself with being home. I will say that you should probably expect me to take forever with these chapters, but inspiration comes and goes and usually its inconsistent.**

 **Nevertheless, I am really happy with this chapter. Granted its mostly filler and exposition on this version of Remnant, but I hope you all enjoy it, nonetheless. Big shout out to Pinkpower3612, my betareader who has been a huge help with this.**

 **Onto the chapter!**

* * *

 **Return of Faith**

 **Chapter Six: Observation & Alteration**

* * *

Screams, growls, klaxon wails, gunshots, and roars filled Vale's commercial distract in the wake of the Creatures of Grimm sudden and unexpected appearance within the city. The people, gripped by that most primal of emotions, ran for their lives as Grimm poured out from the underground tram station they had entered through. The daemons picked them off one by one, running them down and butchering them with their fangs and claws before moving on to the next soul unfortunate enough to draw their attention.

Thankfully however, it appeared that the horde's rampage would be a short one. The Atlas fleet anchored above the city was converging on the emergence point, and over a dozen Huntsmen and Huntresses were already on site, dealing with the Grimm. Granted, most of them were children, students from Beacon Academy, but they held their own against the Grimm with admirable tenacity.

"Not too shabby," Yole muttered to himself as he watched one of the students, a bronze armored red-haired girl sporting a ponytail, fire her rifle three times at trio of charging Grimm, felling each of them effortlessly before spinning around, her rifle transforming into a spear as she moved, and thrusting it through the open maw of another daemon as it tried to get at her from behind.

"Not too shabby at all."

The infiltrator observed the battle from the second floor of a half-ruined café building, recording the whole thing with his Scroll. He had been close by when it happened, enough that he heard the explosion that opened up the way for the attack. He ran through the alleyways to see what had happened and had been about halfway there when the roaring and screaming started. Seconds later, a group of panicked civilians came rushing toward him. Yole narrowly avoided being trampled by the terrified press of bodies by climbing up a nearby fire escape. From his new vantage point, he watched as they pushed and shoved their way through the cramped confines of the alley, desperate to escape whatever was chasing them.

After a moment, Yole heard it, and a moment later, he saw it.

It was a grotesque, unnatural thing, covered in coarse black fur and hard chitin plates. Its arms were long, almost simian in their proportions to the rest of its body, and its sharp claws were stained with gore. Blood dripped from is lupine shaped snout as it loped after the fleeing civilians, all too eager to sink its fangs into their flesh and rip them to pieces.

Yole ensured the monster never got the chance.

Whipping out one of his autopistols, the infiltrator unloaded into the approaching Grimm. The small ballistic weapon unleashed a hail of bullets from its noise suppressed muzzle that took the black daemon off-guard. It stumbled under the barrage, losing its footing and crashing to the ground in a heap.

Yole fired several more rounds into it before releasing his grip on the trigger, finally noticing the wisps of umbral smoke rising from its body. Wide-eyed, he had watched as the monster evaporated into nothingness, the black smoke blown away by a non-existent wind.

For second, Yole stood there, gaping at the place where he had killed the Grimm. There was nothing left, not a single trace of its body remained. There were only the bullets he had shot it with, those tiny bits of metal that had killed it. They were now strewn across the rockcrete floor the alleyway, the only indication that something had happened here.

And so, Yole became the first Imperial in thousands of years to kill a Creature of Grimm, not that the infiltrator cared.

Once he overcame his small moment of surprise, the infiltrator continued his trek across the rooftops of the city before reaching the source of the mayhem. Grimm were all over the square, pouring out from massive hole that looked to have been opened by an underground tram unit smashing its way through, if the wrecked tramcar was anything to go by. A deliberate attack then, intended to confuse and terrorize the denizens of the city in the time leading up to their planet's greatest festival. A good stratagem. He had put in motion similar attacks before on several worlds, distracting the populaces with violence and chaos while he and his sister dealt with… disruptive individuals of considerable social status.

Was the same happening here? Was this attack meant to direct attention away from somewhere else so someone important could be quietly disposed of? Perhaps, but something felt off.

Before he could contemplate further, a screech from above made Yole turn as a large avian-like Grimm swooped down at him. He threw himself to the ground a fraction of second before its talons could close on him, then rolled out of the way and onto his knees, autopistol raised. It wasn't there anymore; it had flown off in search of easier prey.

Knowing better than to remain out in the open, Yole searched for cover. Eyes scanning the parapet, he caught sight of a shed-like structure on the eastern corner and ran over to it. He tried first to see if it was unlocked, when he found that it wasn't the infiltrator brought up his weapon and blasted the handle off its wooden frame before kicking it open. Inside there were stairs going down into the building's interior.

As he ran down the stairs, something shook the building hard. Yole staggered and leaned against the wall to keep his balance. Once down, he had gone over to the side of the building that faced the square and found half of it had been destroyed by whatever had just hit the structure. There was still enough remaining for him to accomplish his goal, however. So, as battle raged on in the square below, Yole hunkered down behind a shattered window frame, pulled out his Scroll device, and started recording.

He had been provided a unique opportunity, one that would greatly benefit their mission here on Remnant. Huntsmen were the warrior elite of Remnant, the lauded defenders of peace and justice who spent years honing their skills in one of the four great academies. They were trained in countless fighting styles as well as the use of Aura and Semblance, granting them incredible power to wield against those that would harm the innocent. They were the unrivaled heroes of Remnant's Time of Peace, the undisputed champions of civilization.

But how much of that was really true, that was what Yole intended to find out.

Through reputation alone, the Huntsmen of Remnant demanded observation and study. Their combat prowess and position in local society marked them out as a threat in the initial and later phases of the invasion. Documentation of their capabilities was required, and while there were many vids of Huntsmen in combat available through the open data-vault known as 'the Internet', most if not all consisted of mock battles and tournament duals. Such sources were unreliable as they halted the moment one of the combatants' Auras dropped too low, leaving the loser defeated but relatively unharmed. There were restrictions in such matches, rules to prevent undue injury and control the flow of the fight.

Such was not the case here. No mercy was shown to the Creatures of Grimm by the Huntsmen. Murderous intent was met with lethal force as more Huntsmen arrived to push back the daemons' incursion, providing Yole with a tremendous amount of valuable information.

Already, Yole was able to determine that speed and maneuverability were key in the Huntsmen way of combat. They danced around their daemonic opponents with an almost preternatural grace, dodging or deflecting incoming attacks with blinding speed before retaliating. They used their strange weapons to great effect, killing Grimm after Grimm with an almost laughable degree of ease. What had taken Yole unloading half a magazine to bring down, they took out with one or two hits of their weapons.

No wonder the people of this backwater idolize them as heroes.

He made sure to record the Atlas forces as well, given their status as the only kingdom with a standing army. They provided air support for the fight, blasting airborne Grimm out of the sky before deploying their mechanical soldiers to support the Huntsmen. Yole zoomed in on one of the constructs as it advanced toward the Grimm, noting its lack of visible human components.

With what seemed like every combat force converging on the square, it was not long before the breach was finally sealed up. With the main issue dealt with, the majority of Atlas robots spread out deeper into the city, intent on hunting down whatever stragglers remained. In contrast, the Huntsmen's response was far less professional. They relaxed, putting away their weapons and engaging in congratulatory conversation with one another, but Yole wasn't paying attention to them anymore.

His focus was on the tramcar now, and the four robots approaching it with their weapons raised. Making sure the Scroll was still recording, he watched as the machines dragged someone out of the wreckage. It was a man dressed in a white coat and black bowler hat.

Yole raised an eyebrow at the man, recognizing him as Roman Torchwick, a notorious thief and the most wanted man in Vale. Yole had performed extensive research on Torchwick, recognizing him as likely problem in the future. The man had become infamous in the last seven months, plundering the city of Vale of its Dust supply and making the local enforcers look even more incompetent than they already were. He had even been bold enough to hit a shipment of Dust just as it was being unloaded, if the news was to be believed. He was a clever man, ruthless and charismatic. Which begged the question…

What was his part in all this?

Attacks like this were not the sort of thing a thief would do, unless it was meant to serve as a distraction. However, the fact Torchwick was here and not somewhere else showed this was not part of an elaborate heist, but something else. Perhaps it was linked to his new friends in the White Fang, but that served only to raise more questions, like why a human thief would work with abhuman insurgents and what this attack was meant to achieve.

The more he thought about it the more Yole realized he needed to look into it. If this was just some small step in a grand conspiracy against Vale, then he needed to figure out what it was and neutralize it before it could jeopardize the mission.

As the Atlas robots led Torchwich toward a waiting gunship sitting idle in the square, Yole left his vantage point. Moving swiftly but silently, the infiltrator slipped out of the ruined building and into the adjacent alleyway, the same one where he killed the Grimm creature. He took a moment to alter his appearance to fool anyone who saw him into thinking he was just another frightened civilian who had been hiding from the Grimm.

His disguise worked. As he staggered out of the alley, panting like a dog, not a single soul looked his way. They were too busy looking for friends, calling out to missing loved ones, helping the injured, or praying to the gods they were allowed to believe in. Yole melded into the crowd of confused civilians with ease, carefully making his way back to the motel he was staying in for the duration of his mission.

Once there, he'd begin an in-depth analysis of the combat footage he recorded, providing Kress with vital intelligence regarding Huntsmen combat styles. After that, he'd look into this attack, find out what it was meant to achieve, who put it all in motion, whether it would impact their own plans and how.

As he boded and weaved through the mass of confused and frightened people, Yole smiled.

Things were finally getting interesting on this rock.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

James could still feel Ozpin's gaze on him. Even with the video link dead, and half a mile separating them, the Atlesian general knew the Beacon headmaster was staring at him from atop his tower, judging him for the responsibility he now wielded in the upcoming festival.

But what did he expect to happen after today?

"You brought this on yourself." He muttered before turning away from the armor-glass window. He had taken the call in his private cabin, away from his crew. He trusted each and every man aboard _the Dauntless_ with his life and they would follow his orders to the letter, but it was better to be safe than sorry when it came to Ozpin.

Especially considering recent… events.

This is on you, Ozpin, James thought bitterly. If you had just listened to me, we could have prevented all of this from happening. He clenched his fists in frustration, then released them with an exhalation of breath.

The chime of his Scroll provided the general with a distraction from his thoughts. Walking over, he pressed the answer button on his desk causing a two-dimensional holoscreen to flash into existence. On the screen was the officer he had placed in charge of interrogating their prisoner who saluted the general immediately.

"At ease," James told him. "Have you made any progress with the prisoner?"

" _No, sir."_ The man answered with a neutral expression shaped by years of discipline and training. _"The prisoner has refused to cooperate with us so far."_

James, nodded, expecting as much. They had only just captured the man; it would take more than an hour of questioning to get the man to talk. Still, the idea of a common thief like Roman Torchwick refusing to answer to the strongest military power on the planet bit at his pride. Perhaps if he were to visit the man himself, he might change his tune a bit.

"Very well, return him to his cell. I'll be down in a moment."

The officer saluted again, _"Yes, sir,"_ before the screen blinked out of existence. Once it was gone, James let out a sigh before composing himself and heading for the door of his cabin. The door slid open at his approach, its built-in sensors responding to the clearance codes he carried on his Scroll and yielding to their authority. This type of hardware was present in every door in the fleet to ensure maximum security. Developed and introduced by the brilliant Doctor Polendina, the sensors prevented anyone without a military-class Atlas Scroll from wandering around without an escort.

A simple function, but one that proved highly effective in simulations, slowing down enemy advances or completely halting them in their tracks.

Of course, not every Scroll was granted the same clearance level. High ranking officers such as himself were the only ones granted full-level access across the whole ship, a privilege that was not always invoked.

James passed few people on his way to the elevator, allowing him to reach it little time. He hadn't expected to see many of his officers, most were either filing reports in their cabins or down in Vale, hunting down any remaining Grimm with their squads of Mark 2 Atlesian Knight combat robots. Officially, the threat had been dealt with, but James wanted to be sure there weren't any Grimm left in the city.

He had also ordered his men to keep their eyes open for any _other_ threats to kingdom security, just to be sure.

Still, their absence didn't upset the general. In truth, James took it as a sign that he had been right to bring them. His men were needed here, Atlas was needed here. The other kingdoms preferred to rely on Huntsmen and Huntresses to deal with their problems, considered them a better solution than training and funding a standing army. "The War is over," they would say, "we have no need for armies."

Today showed the consequences of that naïve belief.

True, the Huntsmen and Huntresses of Beacon Academy had played a crucial role in plugging the breach, but it was the Atlas military that made it possible, deploying troops and war machines to contain the Grimm and draw them away from the frightened civilians.

He thanked the gods for his foresight, if James hadn't brought his fleet, things would have ended very differently.

The elevator door opened out into a room with a heavy security door, guarded by two Atlas marines. At the sight of the general, they stood at attention and saluted. James returned the gesture and walked up to the door, stopping to allow the security sensors time to recognize his rank and unlock the door.

It took a few seconds longer than normal, checking then rechecking his ident-codes before releasing the heavy lock system and sliding open. The brig was small in comparison to the other sections of the ship, a ten-by-thirty-foot room with next to nothing inside it save the fifty-five holding cells lined across the walls. Specially designed to take up as little space as possible, each cell was a prison in its own right. They were empty and cold things, barely the size of a janitor's closet with only a single seat for rest that also served as the prisoner's toilet.

The naïve considered such confinement cruel and inhumane, failing or unwilling to see that that was the point of them. The claustrophobic cell was meant to wear on the occupant's mind. In the case of insubordinate crewmen, it made them regret whatever actions lead them to be placed in the cell, for the rare criminal captured, it made them easier to interrogate. A man could only bear such cramped conditions for so long before he started to crave fresh air and sunlight. In such conditions, it was only a matter of time before they started talking.

James wondered how long Torchwick would last.

He walked over to the cell of the man in question where he saw the officer from the video call and two more marines waiting for him. All three turned and saluted their general as they heard him approach and James returned the gesture before ordering them to be at ease. The marines did so, returning to their duty of standing guard by Torchwick's cell, but officer remained at attention.

"Lieutenant," James began, recognizing the display as a means of gaining his attention. "Is there something you wish to say?"

The officer finally lowered his hand. He was a young man, looked around thirty-years old with steel-blue eyes and dark hair cropped short beneath his officer's cap. His face was fairly ordinary save for a small scar on the left side of his face that ran from his ear to his chin. "Yes, sir. I feel the need to inform you that while the prisoner has refused to answer our questions, when we searched him for any concealed weapons, we found this," the lieutenant reached a hand into his side pocket for the item in question, and though he kept his face neutral, James became curious. Why did the man feel the need to show him this object rather than inform him over the video-call?

He got his answer when the officer retrieved the mysterious item from his pocket and showed it to him.

A golden two-head eagle medallion attached to a chain-necklace.

"I apologize for not informing you sooner, sir," The officer said as James took the medallion from his hand, staring intently at it. "Given the Grimm attack, I felt it was not-"

James cut him off. "I do not want to hear excuses, lieutenant," he said, his tone hard and reprimanding. "Protocol regarding these people is simple and straight forward: upon capture of a member of the illegal Church of the God-Emperor the highest-ranking officer is to be informed of the situation immediately so that proper interrogation methods can be authorized and put into application." James glared at the officer, disappointed and irritated with the man. "Your confined to your quarters until further notice, I'll determine a suitable punishment later."

To his credit, the man kept his composure. "Sir, if I may-"

"You may not," James said, in no mood to argue with the man. "Now leave before I have you court-martialed."

The scar-faced officer hesitated for a brief second, then left the brig as ordered, properly chastised. James was pleased to see the officer remained disciplined during his departure, maintaining correct posture and keeping his head high. It showed his resolve to correct his mistake, to endure his punishment and continue serving his kingdom.

James closed his eyes and exhaled softly. He had overreacted. The had simply prioritized the Grimm over a less immediate threat, something James couldn't fault him for. His frustration toward Ozpin's hesitation to take action was finally getting to him it seemed.

He'd give the man a light punishment, perhaps have him mop the officers' mess for a week.

James turned to the cell and the two soldiers guarding it. He walked over it, the hand holding the medallion kept hidden behind his back and opened the door. Roman Torchwick squinted at the light's sudden intrusion and raised a hand to shield his eyes. Despite the fact he had been found inside a half-demolished train car the thief was remarkably unharmed. He had been stripped of his weapon, hat and coat upon being brought on board, nor had he been treated gently by the men.

And yet he was still smiling that insufferable grin of his once he recognized who was standing before him.

"Leave us." Without a word, the two soldiers obeyed, leaving only the general and the thief. "I've been informed that you've been refusing to co-operate."

Torchwick's grin didn't falter. "Is that what Scarface told you?" He leaned back in his cell, chucking softly. "I ask for a room with a better view and what do they do? They go straight to the manager! You might want to think about hiring some new staff, Jimmy, the service here is terrible."

"This isn't some pleasure cruise and you are not a guest. You are a prisoner aboard my ship, and if you continue to be difficult, I can make your stay here _very_ uncomfortable."

Torchwick winced at the threat, mockingly. "Not going to earn yourselves any stars with that kind of talk, General."

"And you're trying my patience, corpse-worshiper," James held out the medallion for Torchwick to see and was immediately rewarded when the thief's smug expression morphed to something more appropriate. Good, now he would take this seriously. "Now, I am going to give you one chance, Torchwick. Whose really behind this? Tell me now and I'll hand you over to the VPD immediately."

Torchwick gave the general a black look. "And if I say no?"

"Then you'll experience firsthand how we deal with cultists like you in Atlas."

The thief was quiet for a while, likely weighing his options. Most people in this situation would take the deal without a second thought. Vale was a kingdom that did not implement the death penalty, instead just giving life in prison to those they considered "too dangerous." Their prisons are more akin to rehabilitation centers with armed guards, designed to reintegrate the inmates back into society and steer them toward a brighter future. Even captured members of the illegal church were offered this path for a second chance – though rumors persisted that they were not always willing to undergo the process.

This contrasted sharply with Atlas, a kingdom where the criminal was offered no such luxuries. Crime was not taken lightly up north, prisons there served to warn against breaking the law, not provide a way out. Solitas' low Grimm population allowed Atlas to be harsh on its prisoners, ensuring they learned the full consequences of their actions. And unlike Vale, Atlas made use of the death penalty.

Crimes like murder, treason, rape, and participating in an illegal religion earned you no second chance in Atlas, just a quick death at the guns of a firing squad.

And yet, faced with a simple life or death choice, Torchwick remained silent, considering his choices. That he was considering them at all was telling, and worrisome.

Finally, the thief hung his head and sighed, "I honestly can't believe you haven't figured it out yet."

James raised an eyebrow at that, allowing a sense of accomplishment to surge through him, only for it to be crushed the moment he saw that smug grin on Torchwick's face again. The thief sat up straight in his cell, spread his arms wide and said: "You've already got him!"

James sighed and berated himself for getting his hopes up. He had wanted to get this over and done with now but knew it would take more than an afternoon of confinement and an ultimatum to get answers out of someone like Roman Torchwick. It had been worth a shot, at least.

James turned to leave. He no longer had any reason to be here and there were calls he needed to make back in his office. From his cell, he heard Torchwick call out, "What's the matter, General? I thought you wanted to talk."

"The Vale Council has given me custody over you for as long as I see fit," James responded. "Rest assured, we will have plenty of time to talk."

When he heard no immediate response, the general took it to mean he had managed cow the man into silence. Once more, his hopes were shattered when a mockingly cheerful voice cried, "Have an Emperor blessed day then!"

James was grateful the thief couldn't see the scowl on his face, he'd given the bastard enough satisfaction already.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

The desert kingdom of Vacuo. According to history, it was a peaceful and prosperous kingdom once. Abundant natural resources and the largest Dust deposit in the planet's history brought the kingdom great wealth while natural barriers kept the Grimm from entering this desert oasis. It was a paradise in nearly all regards, attracting countless nomad tribes to travel across the great desert that surrounded the fledgling kingdom and settle within its borders.

But that was centuries ago, before the other kingdoms set their sights on the resource rich region, before the people of Vacuo learned the folly of complacency. What was once a paradise was now a wasteland, just another part of the great desert. As the land changed so too did the people who came to it. No more settling families or prospectors came to Vacuo, criminals on the run. All manner of lawbreakers flocked to the desert kingdom, be they petty thieves, bloodthirsty murderers… or frightened priests.

In the years following Remnant's Great War, many priests of the Imperial Cult fled to Vacuo in search of sanctuary. Though Vacuo fought alongside Vale in the war, it did not acknowledge the decrees of the Vytal Summit that removed the Cult's political power, nor did it prosecute and incarcerate members of the Faith living in its borders when the religion was completely outlawed six years after the Great War's end.

The Faith endured in Vacuo, kept alive through deception and stubbornness. Symbols of the Faith were disguised as harmless works of art, hymns and psalms were changed into simple songs, and the priests adopted the roles of teachers and scholars, spreading the core values of their faith through lectures rather than sermons.

They still met in secret for important ceremonies and blessings, but these were well hidden, and years of bitter resentment for their presence in Vacuo made the other kingdoms all too eager to pull their representatives out once the Vacuo Council officially labeled the remnants of the Imperial Cult within its borders as "dangers to world peace" that would be dealt with accordingly.

It was almost funny, how eager the other kingdoms were to accept the lie spun by Vacuo. Chances are they didn't actually believe the official statement but were too afraid they might start another war to ensure Vacuo followed through with its promise.

Actually, it wasn't funny. It was laughably pathetic how timid Remnant's leaders were and still are toward the prospect of war. No doubt her brother would use it as another reason to despise this world, one she would be inclined to agree with were it not for Remnant's unique… situation.

After all, not many planets are infested with daemons attracted by negative emotions. In a rather ironic twist, the Creatures of Grimm were Remnant's most potent enforcer of peace due to their very nature. The negative emotions produced by a war would draw them to attack both sides of the conflict with equal ferocity, going after solider and civilian alike. In fact, seventy percent of all civilian casualties suffered during the Great War were attributed to the Creatures of Grimm.

They made war… difficult and unappealing, more so than usual. They would be an issue during the initial phases of the invasion. Contingencies would need to be set up to probably deal with them. Yuria made a note to remind Kress of this upon his return.

Just as she finished typing it into her data-slate, the infiltrator heard someone approaching her. Looking up from her work, Yuria smiled when she saw a young waiter advancing toward her table. He looked to be in his late teens and was dressed informally in a white shirt and blue trousers held up by a black synth-leather belt. If it wasn't for the bronze name tag on his chest and the plate of food he was carrying over, he could have passed for just another diner.

Yuria placed her data-slate face down on the next to her as the waiter came up to her, ensuring he couldn't see its contents. In truth however, there was no reason for her to hide the slate. Everything on it was written in Lothin, a language of her and Yole's homeworld exclusive to the planet's nobility. Still, even if the boy couldn't read what it said, the fact it was something outside of Remnant's localized version of Low Gothic would draw his, and others', attention. Better safe than sorry.

"Here's your food!" The boy said with a smile as he set the plate down in front of the Inquisitorial Agent. "One Vacuo-style cheeseburger with onion rings. Enjoy!"

"Thank you," Yuria replied and the waiter left her to her meal, heading off to take another table's order. As he did, the infiltrator picked up her sandwich and took a testing bite out of it. There was a spicy, smoky flavor to the meat that was tempered by the cheese and vegetables just enough so that it wouldn't taste as if she had just eaten fire. Still, the level of heat was unexpected, though not unwelcomed for the amount of flavor it added to the meat. Swallowing the bite, Yuria looked to the fried onion rings that came with her burger in lieu of fries.

"Turn up the volume!"

"Everybody shut up!"

Her fingers were just about to grasp one of the rings when the cry went up. Several of the restaurant's patrons were yelling for silence as the establishment's barkeeper increased the audio on the holo-screen projector above his head. Conversations died as everyone presented turned to look at the screen, or more accurately, the woman on it.

"… _The breach was sealed before too many Grimm were able to enter the city, and any remaining Grimm are being hunted down by local Huntsmen and Huntresses and Atlas personnel. Several buildings in the area were destroyed by the fighting and many people were left injured by the unexpected attack, and the number of dead has yet to be determined…"_

People began to mutter as the newscaster continued her report. Many were wondering how the Grimm managed to bypass Vale's defenses so easily, while others worried about friends and family members who had traveled to Vale for the Vytal Festival. Yuria saw more than a few individuals sneer at the projector, vindication in their eyes.

" _Reconstruction efforts are already underway, and should not affect the- wait, hold on just a moment."_ Yuria turned back to the screen. The woman was facing away from the recorder, hand over her ear, nodding at something the audience was not privy to. After a moment, she turned back to face the recorder. _"Breaking news! We have just received word that the Vale Council has appointed General James Ironwood of the Atlas Military as head of security for the Vytal Festival!"_

The muttering grew louder at the announcement, and hostile. The Vacuo locals cursed the general's name as his portrait appeared on the hololith display, hurling all manner of vulgar insults at him and his kingdom. The northern kingdom of Atlas – called Mantle before the war – was as opposite to Vacuo as Macragge was to Necromunda. Clashing cultural and ideological beliefs put the two kingdoms at odds with each other. Vacuo saw Atlas as greedy upstarts who wanted to control everything while Atlas saw Vacuo as a lawless nest of cutthroats and thieves.

The fact that Mantle, and by extension Atlas, was one of the first to sign the document outlawing the Imperial Church was also a source of indignation for the more faithful Vacuins.

But Yuria didn't care about that, her thoughts were on her brother. For a brief moment, she worried he might have been killed in the attack, or worse, compromised and captured. She dismissed these fears as quickly as they appeared. Yole was too clever to die in something so poorly orchestrated as… whatever this was supposed to be. He was her twin after all.

Still, this Atlas general may prove troublesome. Atlas was the only kingdom on Remnant with the sense to have a standing army and it was the most technologically advanced kingdom on the planet. There was no telling what sort of devices might be at this general's disposal, or how much influence his status as head of security would allow him.

Yuria sighed and looked down at her meal. Her appetite was gone, chased off by this unpleasant development. Not wanting the food to go to waste, she called over one of the waiters to box it for her. Once it was boxed, she paid for her meal and left. As she walked out the restaurant's main entrance, Yuria pulled out her Scroll and dialed in a contact code.

 _Ring… Ring… click! "Hello! This Matty Grey with Royal Blue Airlines. How can I help you today?"_

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

 **Author's Note: I'll be honest, writing Ironwood's scene made me realize how much that scene in the show didn't make sense. I mean, it was a good scene, but when you stop to think about you start asking questions like why Ironwood was having a very private and important chat in the ship's brig? Why does a warship have a brig that looks like it spans the entire width of the ship? Why does the brig have giant ass fancy windows? There were just so many tiny things that made scratch my head, I just had to change it up to make more sense.**

 **Also, just for clarification, Yuria finds out about this several hours after the breach happened, just when the choice to appoint Ironwood as chief of security is made public. Originally, I was going have her pull a gun on someone trying to hit on her, but it just didn't flow that well.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and the lore for my story, and I apologize if I made things seem clunky and weird.**

 **Also, did you guys see the repulsor executioner? Damn that thing is awesome looking, can't wait to see how the vanguard marines look in their multi pose sprues. And if you can't tell, yes, I am still kicking myself in the back for not having Primaris. Say what you will, but those boys are awesome looking! Expect a time skip next chapter, things are finally starting to speed up.**

 **As Always: Please, Fav, Follow, and Review! Thank You!**

 **DeadRich18 Out!**


	8. Chapter 7: An End to Waiting

**I do not own RWBY or Warhammer 40,000, only my original characters.**

 **I LIVE! Sorry for the wait everyone, haven't had the drive or time to write for a while which is why this took so long. Still I hope its up to your standards and that you all enjoy it!**

* * *

 **Return of Faith**

 **Chapter Seven: An End to Waiting**

"Ha!" Artoris brought his blade down with a two-handed swing that Kara managed to block with her staff. The strength of the blow forced the psyker back, and the Freeblade pressed his advantage with a follow up sideways-slash that Kara barely managed to dodge. She rolled under the swipe, landing behind the taller Knight in a crouch before spinning around and thrusting her staff at the Knight's back like a spear.

Just before the staff connected however, Artoris moved. With a surprisingly graceful pirouette, he turned to face the psyker, sword brought up to expertly parry the strike and send the staff veering to the right. The deflection unbalanced her, and before Kara could right herself, she felt the dull tip of Artoris' practice sword press against her throat.

A moment passed, and the Freeblade lowered his blade and offered his hand to the woman. She took it.

"You're getting better, Kara," he said as he pulled her to her feet. "Your last thrust was sloppy though. You put too much distance between us when you rolled behind me, turned the attack into a lunge I could easily deflect and turn against you, especially with how high it was aimed."

Kara huffed and pushed a lock of sweat-soaked hair to the side. "I'll be sure to aim lower then, next time." Despite the not so subtle threat, Artoris smiled. It wasn't some smug smirk or arrogant grin meant to mock her futile attempts to best him, but a smile of encouragement and comradery.

It did little to banish the frown Kara sported, however, only increasing the woman's frustration as she turned for the exit of the training cage. Muscles ached from almost an hour's worth of combat practice with the Freeblade and her training fatigues were heavy with sweat. She quickly found herself taking deep breaths of air as the adrenaline from sparring finally wore off. When she reached the training cage's aperture she paused, taking a moment to regain her bearings before exiting and heading over to a nearby counter where a decanter and several cups sat in waiting.

Grabbing the decanter and a cup, Kara poured herself some water. She emptied the cup in two quick gulps before pouring herself a second drink. Daily exercise routines were nothing new to Kara, Kress expected and ensured everyone on his team – barring the heavily augmented Orbeck – maintained a certain level of fitness. Still, Kara's talents didn't lie in physical strength, nor did her body share the same level of endurance her mind possessed. A common tradeoff for her kind.

As she placed the decanter back on the stand, Kara cast her gaze toward the only other people in the training hall with them. The two serfs stood half-a-dozen yards away and met the psyker's emerald eyes with the blue of their helmets' eye-lenses. As she stared at them, Kara felt irritation well up insider her.

When Chapter Master Castimere had pledged his chapter to their cause, Kara had been optimistic. She believed their stay on Salem would be a short one and last only a day or two as the Black Lions readied their forces and mobilized their fleet. Her optimism faltered when, on the fourth day of their stay, Artoris asked a serf if he knew how much longer they would need to wait before the Black Lions were ready to depart. The serf said he did not know, and when asked if he knew someone who did, he only told them he would bring their concerns to his superiors.

It wouldn't be until the next day that Artoris would get his answer. Arriving with their breakfast was the serf woman who had guided them to their apartments, High Retainer Reyne. She informed the Inquisitor and his retinue that the Black Lions would not be ready to deploy for another month, at most.

After dashing what little optimism Kara had left, Reyne explained that their arrival coincided with one of the chapter's most honored traditions, their so-called 'Games.' More than a mere recruitment trial, the serf expanded, the Games occurred roughly once every three-hundred years. It was a time when honors were awarded, promotions were given, blessings were bestowed, and feuds were settled or sparked. The way she described it made it sound like some bizarre fusion of a feudal world combat tournament and an ecclesiarcharl ceremony.

She also told them that the Games lasted for as long as it took for the Black Lions to process every one of their recruits.

Kara turned away from the two serfs, hiding her growing scowl from them. Twenty-three days had passed since they first arrived on Salem, twenty-three days of sparring and meditation, twenty-three days of waiting for the Space Marines to finish their damn ceremonies while Yole and Yuria were stuck on that backwater of a planet. Twenty-three days of nothing…

"Are you looking to burn a hole in the floor with that glare of yours?" Artoris asked as he reached for the decanter. "What has you so cross, little witch? Have you grown weary of our lessons together, perhaps?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Artoris. I can read your thoughts." Kara turned to fix the man with stare. "You know why I'm upset."

Though he was without his armor and clad only in gray training fatigues, Artoris still cut an imposing figure. He stood a head taller than Kara and possessed a slim but muscular frame that spoke of consistent exercise regimes. His features were sharp and handsome, shaped by generations of careful breeding between the knightly houses of his homeworld. Those features softened as he placed the decanter down and met the psyker's gaze with his own.

"We've been here for too long, Artoris, doing nothing while Yole and Yuria risk their lives on that forsaken world." She kept her voice low, not wanting their escort to hear her. "I know they're Space Marines, but we're the Inquisition! The enforcers of the Emperor's will. Why must we wait on them and their ceremonies when we should be cleansing Remnant of its taint?"

Artoris was silent for a moment before reaching back for the decanter and pouring himself a drink. "I share your restlessness, Kara," He said at last. "Not a day goes by where I do not anticipate the news that the Games are done, and we are ready to depart." He placed the decanter back down and took a sip from his cup before speaking. "But I also know I have nothing to worry about, and neither do you."

Kara narrowed her eyes at that and folded her arms over her chest. "And why is that?"

Artoris gave her a questioning look, then shook his head with a bemused smile. "I forget sometimes, you are still new after all."

Kara bristled at that. She had been a part of Kress' team for almost two years now and had taken part in over a dozen separate investigations. She had spent significant time with each member of Kress' personal retinue, to which she was a part of! She was an acolyte of the Imperial Inquisition and a Delta-class sanctioned psyker, in what way was she still 'new?' As if sensing her offense, Artoris raised his hand in placation.

"I am not saying you are inexperienced, Kara," he amended. "Only that you underestimate our comrades' abilities. Yole and Yuria have been Kress' eyes and ears for fifty years, acting as his unseen hand. At his command, they have snuffed out rebellions, silenced corrupt nobles, and infiltrated some of the most heavily fortified hive-cities I have ever seen, and do you know how many times they were discovered?"

Kara said nothing. She knew how many times the twins had been caught; it was one of the first things she asked them, following her recruitment into the Inquisition. Artoris took her silence as the que to answer his own question.

"Twice," he said, holding up three fingers to emphasize his point. "In their service to Kress, they have only ever been discovered twice, and from no fault of their own. They are the best at what they do and your concern, while well intentioned, serves only to insult their skill."

Kara felt her cheeks flush at the reprimand and turned to leave. She had no desire to talk about this, drenched in sweat, exhausted from sparring, and agitated from being cooped up in this place for almost a month. Artoris had been the one to start this conversation, but she was ending it. She marched past the serfs, no longer caring if they saw her scowl, only to stop when she finally noticed that someone else was there.

Standing in the entryway of the training hall, clad in the blue power armor of his office, was the Black Lions Chief Librarian Syrus.

Kara stared, stunned that she had not sensed the Space Marine earlier. She rationalized that he must have masked his presence from her in some way. It would have been easy for one of his power she realized, especially given how distracted she had been during the spar.

Noticing her acknowledgement of his presence, the Chief Librarian strode into the training hall. She couldn't but marvel at how graceful he moved despite his bulky armor, what would be cumbersome and unwieldy for a human to wear he treated as if it were a second skin. Not for the first time, Kara reminded herself that he was not human, none of the Space Marines were.

He closed the distance between them in a matter of moments, standing before the young psyker and her Freeblade companion. He stared at the two of them with golden eyes, and Kara suddenly felt the urge to kneel before him.

Instead, she bowed her head in greeting.

He reciprocated the gesture. "I did not wish to interrupt your match," he said without prompting, eyes fixating on Kara. "You have good form and agility, but fear of retaliation prevents you from closing the necessary distance and seizing victory."

Kara blinked, Artoris hid a smirk. The Freeblade brought a hand to his mouth and coughed politely, earning the Librarian's attention. "To be fair, Lord Librarian, she is more used to manipulating the minds of her enemies than true combat. 'The mind is the sharpest blade' and so forth."

Kara gave the Freeblade a look, insulted by his insinuation that her combat capabilities were lack luster due to her psychic powers. The old Space Marine seemed to share this opinion. "You are a fool if you believe that a rational excuse for her performance," he said. "Psychic abilities do not determine whether one has martial skill or not, but I am not here to discuss such things."

"And what are you here for, Lord Librarian?" Kara asked, honestly curious.

"For you, Acolyte Storrel," he answered. "I seek your aid in better understanding certain elements of your master's report regarding the planet of Remnant. Specifically, the strange powers utilized by Remnant's warrior class and this 'Song' that led you to the world in the first place."

Kara tried not to let her surprise show. The Chief Librarian of the Black Lions, wanted _her_ help? He had to be joking… but as she stared into his old, golden eyes, Kara knew he was entirely serious with his request. She almost asked him why he wanted to know but stopped herself when she remembered who she was talking to.

"I will tell you what I can, but I must first speak with my master before-"

"There is no need," Syrus interrupted. "I spoke with Inquisitor Kress before coming here. He is willing to allow you to divulge what you know of the world to me. Now come," The Space Marine turned and made for the entrance of the training hall. "We have much to discuss and little time to do it."

"Wait!" Kara exclaimed, arresting the Black Lion from his stride. He looked back at her, silent as he waited for her to elaborate. Several questions raced through her mind at that moment: what did he mean about having little time, why was he doing this now instead of earlier, did Kress truly give him authorization to ask her anything he wanted? But under the golden gaze of the Chief Librarian, Kara found herself unable to ask any of these questions, and instead, asked the one at the very forefront of her mind.

"May I take a shower first?"

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

As one of the four great Huntsmen Academies of Remnant, the physical condition and combat skills of its student body were among its highest concerns. Monitored combat sparring was a mandatory part of the curriculum, and arguably one of the school's most practical courses. Outside of these classes, students were encouraged to exercise regularly in the school's gymnasium, a large building on the campus' southern section.

Designed to provide both the students and faculty with efficient use of time and effort, the gymnasium was filled with a plethora of state-of-the-art equipment and machines, as well as more traditional, tried-and-true methods of exercise.

A track ring ran around the main interior of the gymnasium, with various weights and workout machines arrayed in neat rows in within its perimeter. At the center was a boxing ring where students could engage in boxing or wrestling matches. In addition, there was also a firing range on the east side of the building, separated from the main space with sound-proof walls and bullet-proof glass.

The gymnasium normally experienced a steady stream of students each day, but with the Vytal Festival right around the corner, the building was packed nearly to maximum as dozens of young Huntsmen-in-training prepared themselves for the Festival's combat tournament. Many exercised with their teams, exchanging strategies and ideas for the upcoming tournament though most reserved this sort of talk for the locker room.

"Am I the only one getting tired of how secretive those two have been about dating?"

Of course, they were some who preferred to discuss gossip over combat tactics. They were teenagers after all.

"I thought you said they weren't dating?" Blake asked as the faunus in hiding changed into a set of clean clothes. Weiss let out an indignant huff as she stepped out of the shower of the girls' locker room, a towel wrapped tightly around her petite frame.

"Am I not allowed to change my mind?" Weiss asked as she grabbed a second towel to dry her hair. "You saw how they were at the dance; they were practically inseparable! And they've been going out every week since we got back from Mountain Glenn, how can I not think they're dating now?"

"Because you hate admitting when your wrong?" Blake offered with a teasing smile. Yang chuckled lightly as Weiss pouted at her teammate's jab before turning back to the all-important task of brushing out her hair. Weiss took a seat next to the brawler and began combing her own hair, though with significantly less care and more efficiency than Yang.

"Relax, Weiss," Yang said, untangling a knot that had formed in her golden mane. "Ruby's just being shy about it. She's never had a boyfriend before, so this is all new territory for her. Give her a bit more time and she'll open up about, trust me."

"That doesn't answer my question, Yang."

"What was your question?"

Both Yang and Weiss turn to see the female half of their neighbor team, JNPR, enter the locker room. They were covered in sweat, their form-fitting workout clothes damp with perspiration, yet they didn't seem winded at all. Nora beamed at them with that usual toothy grin of hers while Pyrrha gave them a polite wave. If it wasn't for the sweat and the state of their clothes, Yang doubted she would have been able to tell that they had just completed an hour of intense exercise.

"Hey guys," Yang greeted warmly as the two got ready for their post-workout showers. "Weiss was just saying how annoyed she is about how Ruby's got a boyfriend now."

"That is not what I said!" Weiss started only to be interrupted by a loud, dramatic gasp curtesy of Nora.

"Ruby got a boyfriend!? Oh, my gods, that's great, right Pyrrha? Who is he? Is he a first year? An upperclassman? Does he even go to Beacon!? I need answers now!" The hammer-toting ginger was bouncing on the balls of her feet in felicitated excitement, forgetting she had just taken off her shirt or no longer caring.

Though amused by the response, and the blush that appeared on Weiss' face at Nora's bouncing, Yang raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the girl. Blake appeared to be thinking the same as Yang because before the blonde opened her mouth to respond, the faunus-in-hiding answered.

"You don't know?"

Nora blinked and tilted her head in confusion at the question while Pyrrha, a white towel wrapped around her naked body, turned around with a look of interest on her face.

"Should I?" Nora asked innocently, making all three girls pause to look at the two redheads with varying degrees of surprise. Vomit Boy was sneakier than they gave him credit apparently.

Weiss was the one to answer Nora's question, locking eyes with her and keeping her gaze from drifting down. "Given he's your team's leader, yes, you should."

Both female members of JNPR froze with looks of utter shock plastered onto their faces. Nora appeared merely stunned by the revelation, her mind needing time to process this new information. Pyrrha, however, looked hurt. Like Nora she had been taken back by the news, but her emerald eyes carried sorrow and regret along with shock.

Yang winced, recalling how hard Pyrrha was crushing on Jaune. The Mistral champion had been pinning for the blonde-haired dope since initiation, desperate for him to notice her feelings but too shy to act on them. Now her crush was going out with someone else, and to make matters worse, it was someone she was friends with so she couldn't get mad about it.

Incredible fighter she might be, Pyrrha was simply too nice sometimes.

"WHAT!?" Nora practically screamed. The ginger shot a glance to Pyrrha, then back to the three girls, then back to Pyrrha. She did this several more times before throwing out her hands and repeating: "WHAT?!"

"Haven't you noticed how much time they've been spending together recently?" Blake asked, genuinely curious.

"Jaune said they were meeting to brainstorm combat strategies and attack names together!" Nora paused, as if recalling Jaune as he told them what he would be doing with Ruby. Her expression turned furious as she put two and two together. "That lying jerk! When I get my hands on him, I'm gonna-"

"Are you certain?"

Everyone looked at Pyrrha then, and Yang suppressed another wince at what she saw. The confident champion fighter they all knew and loved looked like she had just seen a puppy get kicked. Her emerald eyes were still full of regret at hearing she had missed her chance with Jaune, but there was also a sparkle of something else in them.

"A-are you certain Jaune and Ruby are dating, I mean."

Blake, Weiss, and Yang exchanged looks with each other at Pyrrha's question. They knew Ruby and Jaune had to be seeing each other, but beyond their little meet ups and weekend trips to Vale, there wasn't any actual evidence that supported their claim. Maybe they were just meeting up to talk about battle strategies and other dorky stuff like Nora said, but Yang knew there was more to it than just that, she could feel it.

"No… we are not…" Weiss answered for them. "They have just been seeing each other so much recently, I supposed we just… assumed they were dating since, well, what else would they be doing?"

Nora seemed unconvinced, but Pyrrha looked relieved. The sparkle in the champion's eyes was bigger now, emboldened by Weiss' admission of uncertainty. Yang then recognized the sparkle for hope, hope that she still had a shot with Jaune.

Despite herself, Yang couldn't help but bristle at Pyrrha's reaction. Yes, they didn't have any concrete evidence, but it was obvious the two leaders were together. Ever since the two started hanging out more together Yang had noticed a change in her little sister's behavior and attitude. They were small things: Ruby taking a little more time to get ready than she normally did, humming cheerfully when she was doing her homework, and, most telling of all, having a huge smile on her face whenever she saw Jaune.

Jaune made Ruby happy, and that made Yang happy. She was still going to give those two a reckoning for hiding their relationship from her, but that did not mean she wasn't going to protect it.

Pyrrha Nikos was a good person and a good friend, but she was had missed her shot with Jaune and needed to accept that. Better for everyone if she understood that now rather than hurt herself and others further down the line.

It was then that Yang had an idea, or rather, remembered an idea from a while back. It was something inspired by their little adventure into Vale a few months back and had mostly been meant as a joke. Right now, though, Yang didn't feel like joking.

"Let's follow them, then." She blurted out, earning the undivided attention of her peers. "I'm serious. This Sunday let's follow them into Vale and find out if they're really dating or not. If they are, then we grill them for hiding it from us, and if they're not, then we leave them be. Sound good?"

As the others started debating the consequences of her plan, Yang kept her eyes on Pyrrha. She saw that hope in the champion's eyes dwindle as, one by one, the other girls either agreed or relented to her idea.

Then Yang did something she regretted.

She smiled.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

When the Space Marines that would become the Black Lions first came to Salem ten thousand years ago, they arrived during what has since become known simply as the Slaughtering. A Blood Eclipse of such terrible length that it bathed the planet in a red gloom for entire year. Deepwood Beasts covered the planet in tsunamis of claws and fangs, devouring every human they came across until only a few hundred souls remained alive on the planet. No Blood Eclipse before or since has come as close to scouring Salem of all human life as the Slaughtering did.

Extinction was prevented only by the timely arrival of an Imperial expeditionary fleet in system, led by Astartes of the Imperial Fists Legion. They cleansed the world in flames with bombardment cannons and lance strikes, incinerating billions of beasts and transforming the very geography of the planet before descending to Salem's surface to cleanse the rest with blade and bolter.

The marks of that first great scouring have since been reclaimed nature, becoming canyons, lakes, and valleys; all save for one. Just a mile away from Castrum Argalus there is a great crater, said to have been made by the first bombardment cannon shell to strike the planet. When the Black Lions claimed Salem for their own in the Second Founding and began construction of their fortress monastery, they began excavating the crater as well.

Accumulated rainwater was drained, debris was removed, foundations were set. Great statues of chapter heroes were raised along its rim and tier after tier of viewing platforms were carved into its sides. At the bottom sat a flat stage of black marble, fifty feet in diameter, and it was on this stage that two of the chapter's champions now fought for the honor of wielding the Sword of Salem.

They were bereft of their armor, clad only in simple loincloths dyed in the colors of their brotherhoods, one red the other white. They circled each other like the lions displayed on the banners surrounding the arena, fists clenched around ceremonial dueling swords. When they charged each other, their swords locked at the hilt with such force that, had it not been raining, sparks would have been born.

So thought Jorran as he watched the duel with iron focus, analyzing and admiring the bladework of the two combatants. Though he knew he would never forget this day, Jorran aspired to commit every attack and parry he saw to memory for it would be very unlikely he would ever live to see such a magnificent display of swordsmanship, or witness the chapter assembled in such numbers, ever again.

The whole of the Black Lions chapter stood in the arena that storm filled day, one thousand battle brothers clad in the baroque warplate of their chapter, watching the duel unfold before them as rained pelted down on them. All of Black Lions were in attendance, even those interred within the chapter's dreadnoughts. Ancient heroes of the chapter like the venerable Aronthous Tarlon, last living survivor of the Desecration, and the mysterious contemptor dreadnought known only as the Silent One watched the fight through the optic lenses of their sarcophagi.

Jorran was honored to be in the presence of such legendary warriors, just as he was honored to fight in the Blood Eclipse and take part in the Games. Once more, he thanked the God-Emperor for granting His favor unto him and raising up to become one of His Angels of Death.

He held no doubts his squad was doing the same. Like him, his nine battle brothers were all clad in their warplate. The damages sustained during the Blood Eclipse had been repaired and repainted, and fresh litanies of faith and oaths of moment had been acid-etched into their black ceramite. The rest of the chapter's warplate had been restored as well, for while the Space Marines sparred and conversed with one another during the Games the serfs of the chapter had toiled diligently to return their masters' wargear to its proper splendor.

For a moment, Jorran's gaze drifted from the fight to fix upon the Chapter Master himself. Jorran had only ever seen the Chapter Master once before today, during the Blood Eclipse. He had watched as the Lord of the Black Lions cut through the Deepwood beast like they were nothing, striking them down with mighty sweeps of the legendary guardian spear, Deus Vult. A truly incredible warrior as well as a brilliant tactician, Lord Castimere had more than earned his place as their Chapter Master.

Lord Castimere was on the bottom level of the arena, a scant twenty feet from the ring's edge. He stood resplendent in the Armor of Truth, the ancient artificer armor worn by the Black Lions' first Chapter Master and all who came after him. Like all others present, Castimere watched the duel in silence, respecting the efforts of both combatants by keeping his full attention upon them.

Jorran quickly returned his own focus to his brothers in the ring and suppressed a curse. In the two seconds he had looked away the fight had shifted. The Marine in the white loincloth, Arthen Cerwyn of the 1st brotherhood, was on the offensive and pushing his opponent back. Jame Tarth, champion of Jorran's own brotherhood, was hard pressed as he parried and dodged the 1st champion's blade, teeth grit in snarling concentration.

Jorran's eyes narrowed a fraction as the 3rd brotherhood's champion went on the defensive. Tarth was one of the finest swordsmen he knew, his skill with a blade unrivaled by any other warrior in the brotherhood. Thousands had fallen to his sword, from traitorous guardsmen to alien warlords, and many were the honors he won for himself and the chapter. Indeed, Jorran thought the man unbeatable, for he had never seen nor heard of Tarth ever losing a fight.

And yet that seemed to be exactly what was happening. Rain fell and thunder boomed as the 3rd champion was staggered back by an especially powerful strike. He regained his balance just as Cerwyn came in for another blow. Tarth brought up his sword to block, but it was a feint. At the last moment, Cerwyn changed the angle of his strike, aiming for Tarth's exposed left flank.

Tarth dodged the blow, but only barely. He rolled to the side, landing several yards away from Cerwyn. Jorran spied a faint line of red running from the champion's arm before it was washed away by the rain. First blood had finally been drawn, but the match was still yet to be decided.

Tarth did not waste his moment of respite and charged back into the fray. Perhaps he believed such an aggressive move would win him the match, and for a while it seemed to be. Cerwyn was now on the backfoot, struggling to keep up with the speed of the younger warrior's strikes.

Tarth kept up his assault and to Jorran's surprise, landed a blow against Cerwyn. He had come in fast from the side and the 1st champion had been unable to fully parry it. It was shallow, a grazing really, but it gave Jorran hope for a victory and emboldened Tarth to press his advantage further. Another cut was made along his right arm, then a third across his chest.

Jorran's fists clenched in anticipation as the 3rd champion forced Cerwyn to his knees. He leaned forward, as did countless others, as Tarth brought his blade down to score the winning blow…

Only for Cerwyn to strike first…

Even with his enhanced senses, Jorran almost missed it. With only a fraction of second left before the sword struck him, Cerwyn lashed out with speed he had not shown before. A flash of lightning lit up the whole arena then, as if called down by the God-Emperor Himself to ensure all present could bear clear witness as Arthen Cerwyn severed Jame Tarth's hand from his wrist.

Jorran's eyes were wide as he watched the champion's hand – still gripping his sword – fall to the floor. Tarth appeared equally surprised, for he stumbled back a step before making for his severed hand and the blade it still held. Cerwyn did not give him the chance. The 1st champion slammed into Tarth mid stride, sending the younger warrior sprawling to the floor. He made to rise, but Cerwyn was already on him, sword pressed against his throat.

Thunder boomed in the distance, a single second passed, yet it felt like hours, before Cerwyn removed his blade from Tarth's throat and raised it up to the stormy sky in victory.

The duel was over, and he had won.

Jorran's fists unclenched and let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He felt no bitterness toward the outcome, Cerwyn had fought well to earn the privilege of wielding the Sword of Salem, but he did feel disappointed. Victory had almost within Tarth's grasp, only for it to be ripped away. Perhaps if he had taken Cerwyn more seriously he would still have a hand.

Jorran frowned and chastised himself for thinking ill of his brother. Cerwyn was a far more experienced warrior than Tarth and had used that experience to his advantage, thus why he emerged the victor of the duel. Such was His Will.

Cerwyn then went back to his downed brother and extended his hand to him. Tarth took it and pulled himself up. His wrist was already clotting, forming a dark stump where his hand had been moments ago. No sooner had he been brought to his feet that both champions were on their knees as Chapter Master Castimere stepped into the arena, followed by Reclusiarch Agtheon and a pair of vox-cherubim.

The whine of servos echoed over the rain as the whole of Black Lions chapter bent the knee to their liege lord as he approached the two champions. In his right hand he carried the weapon of his office, Deus Vult, while in his left he held the sheathed blade that these two champions had fought so hard to wield. He stood before both of them and handed the guardian spear to Agtheon, who took the ancient weapon with reverence, before unsheathing the Sword of Salem.

Castimere held the blade aloft, "Ten thousand years ago, our forebears came to this realm and fought to free it from the clutches of a mad tyrant." His words echoed across the arena, amplified by the vox-cherubim fluttering above him. "With the aid of noble Sabaton, and the sacrifice of the Nameless Saint, this tyrant was cast down and the worlds of Evangela brought into the God-Emperor's divine embrace. As thanks, they forged for us this sword, crafted by the finest smiths in the subsector.

"Every world contributed to its forging: Sabaton, Evangela, Pescarus, Arrekes, Feros, Mordellus," A moment of silence followed the mention of the last two worlds and Jorran's gaze drifted briefly to the armored form of venerable Tarlon. "It is a symbol of our realm's unity and devotion as much as a weapon with which to slay the enemies of Man. And just as no one world cannot claim full credit for the sword's creation, so too can no one brotherhood claim total stewardship."

Castimere then moved so that he stood before Cerwyn. "Arthen Cerwyn, you have displayed zeal and honor this day and have been judged worthy of the Sword of Salem. Will you take up this blade in the name of the Emperor and the chapter?"

"I will, my liege," Cerwyn's quiet voice became a shout as it left the vox-speakers.

"Will you wield it with fury, so that it may slay those who act against the Emperor's Will?"

"I will, my liege."

"Will you wield it with purpose, so that it may protect His vast flock against those who would prey upon it?"

"I will, my liege."

"Will you wield it with faith, so that all who look upon you may know the righteous glory of the God-Emperor?"

"I will, my liege."

Alexander Castimere then raised the sword and placed the flat of the blade against Cerwyn's right shoulder before doing the same with his left. "Then with my power as Lord of the Black Lions, I dub thee Swordkeeper." The Chapter Master then reversed his hold on the sword, offering it hilt first to the kneeling champion. "Now, rise and claim your blade."

The newly titled Swordkeepr did as was asked of him, rising to his feet before reaching out to grasp hold of the Sword of Salem. Cerwyn held the blade reverently, like a father holding his newborn son for the first time. As he admired the blade, the Reclusiarch stepped forward and offered him the sheath which he also accepted.

Cerwyn bowed his head to the Chapter Master, offering his liege thanks and vowing to bring honor to the chapter, before sliding the sword back into its sheath and bending his knee was more as Reclusiarch Agtheon approached him. The Chaplain bestowed blessings upon the new Swordkeeper, ones few here would ever hear again. Once finished, he turned to the one thousand Black Lions surrounding them and began to sing. Jorran joined his voice with the Chaplain's, as did every other Black Lion. The hymn they sung was simple in its lyrics but possessed a great power all the same.

Upon the hymn's completion, silence fell over the arena. The Games were now ended.

Yet, there was no call for dismissal made, nor did the Chapter Master or Reclusiarch move from their places. Unsure of what to do, Jorran and the rest of the chapter remained where they knelt, waiting for the reason behind such an unorthodox break in tradition.

"In the Blood Eclipse, you all fought with honor and distinction," Lord Castimere's voice cut through the pouring rain like a knife. "For every human life taken, you each slayed a thousand beasts in retribution, avenging those brave knights who fell defending their homes and families." The Reclusiarch had since returned the Chapter Master's weapon to him, and Castimere raised the spear high in salute. "I am proud to lead such noble warriors against the foes of the Imperium and honored that I may call each and every one of you my brother."

Jorran's back straightened at the Chapter Master's words, as did several others. "As such, I shall speak plainly. As you have all no doubt heard, we have recently been visited by a member of the Holy Inquisition and that we have played host to him and his retinue for several weeks." Jorran blinked, and the soft hum of servos told him a number of his brothers were now leaning forward in anticipation.

"This Inquisitor has come to us with news of a planet that has rejected the Emperor's Light. Of a world overrun with monsters, where the heretic rules and the Emperor's faithful are hunted like animals." Hate swelled in Jorran's hearts. He clenched his armored fists tight. "By the Will of the God-Emperor, the Inquisitor came upon this world, following a psychic signal originating from its surface."

Castimere paused a moment, scanning the sea of faces that surrounded him, taking in their furious expressions. "He found a world poisoned by heresy and corrupted by sinners, where the just are preyed upon by the wicked and the one true God of Mankind is shunned in favor of false idols." His voice rose in volume and fervor, anger lacing every word. "But, amidst the filth he found pockets of purity; men and woman who remain true to the Emperor and await the return of His Angels. The return of those who first brought the Emperor's Word to their world.

"Our forebearers brought Light to this planet, thousands of years ago, but in our absence it has waned. What was once a roaring fire has dimed to only a smoldering ember, stubbornly refusing to die out. I ask you, my brothers, will you allow this ember to die?"

"No," they answered, each voice resolute and dripping with wrathful hatred.

"Will you stand by as the innocent faithful are slaughtered like cattle on the whim of heretics?"

"No!"

"Will you allow those who have betrayed the Emperor and turned from His Light to remain unpunished?"

"NO!"

Castimere raised his free hand up into a fist and thrust it skyward, just as lightning cracked above them. "Then rise, my brothers, rise and make ready for war. The Emperor has need of us once more. The Black Lions will march upon Remnant, and we shall spare no traitor!"

"SPARE NO TRAITOR! SPARE NO TRAITOR!" The world seemed to shake as one thousand Black Lions took up their chapter's warcry. Fury filled their voices and gave their hate volume as the chant overpowered the raging thunder of the storm. Even the ancient dreadnoughts added their rumbling voices to the chant – even the Silent One, who pounded his deactivated power fist against his sarcophagus' thick hull.

Jorran shouted too. The sergeant's earlier awe was replaced with righteous fury as he roared his chapter's battle cry, fist raised high over his head. When the Chapter Master at last turned to leave, and the chanting died away as the Space Marines filed out of the arena, Jorran's thoughts were dominated by the world they would soon depart for…

And the terrible retribution he would visit upon its heretical inhabitants.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

 **Author's Note: AGAIN, REALLY SORRY FOR THE WAIT! This chapter was just a bitch to write, for more reasons than it should have been. Work usually leaves me drained so I never felt like writing when I got home, I didn't have all the scenes properly planned out before I started writing them, and… well… writer's block.**

 **Thank you so much for being patient with me. Sadly, you will have to wait a little longer for the next chapter. I'm working on the next chapter of Grimm Heir after this upload, another story I have neglected as of late, so I won't be working on Return of Faith for a bit. Anyway, please let me know what you think of the chapter. Some parts are a bit meh in my opinion, but I hope the last scene was enjoyable for everyone.**

 **As always: Please Fav, Follow, and Review! Thank You!**

 **DeadRich18 Out!**


	9. Chapter 8: All in a Day's Work

**I do not own RWBY or Warhammer 40,000, only my original characters.**

 **IMPORTANT NOTICE! BEFORE YOU START READING, PLEASE GO BACK AND READ CHAPTERS 3 AND 5, AS THEY FEATURE SCENES THAT HAVE BEEN SIGNFICANTLY EDITED!**

 **Sorry this took so long again, haven't had much drive to write, and when I do get it, its mostly in spurts. Hope everyone is doing alright with the corona virus, my family has already lost someone to it, but I hope you all have not suffered the same. My prayers go out to any of you that are being affecting by the virus, and may God watch over us all in this trying time.**

 **Onto the story.**

* * *

 **Return of Faith**

 **Chapter Eight: All in a Day's Work**

There was a reason why Grimm usually didn't last long in captivity; they just never knew when to give up. Even if there was no chance of escape a Grimm would continue to throw itself against the bars until either they gave out or it did. This lack of self-preservation is one of many reasons why so many people think Grimm are stupid beasts that anyone with a gun and the sense to aim could deal with, so long as they didn't attack in large numbers.

Indeed, Most of the Grimm they had locked up in their camp fell into the stereotypical category of "dangerous but dumb", trying will all they had to break, bite, or dig their way out of their cages. Most of them. A few were more… compliant, sitting motionlessly or pacing back and forth within the cramped confines of their cages, only giving in to their violent nature whenever someone accidently got too close. These Grimm were patient predators, more than capable of biding their time for the perfect moment to strike.

Needless to say, these Grimm were watched carefully by their captors. The last thing the White Fang needed was a bunch of loose Grimm rampaging through their camp.

Still, Liam wished Leader Taurus had picked someone else to take the late-night shift instead of him. It was getting cold.

The wolf-faunus eyed one of these more "docile" Grimm with a glare, which it returned three-fold. The beast was a beowolf alpha, older and larger than most of its kind and much, much deadlier. Rumor had it that alphas were smarter than other Grimm, and with the way it was looking at him, Liam was keen to believe it.

It was planning something; he just knew it. His finger slid down to the trigger of his Dust-thrower and he shifted his gaze down to check the settings dial again. It was on blue, like every other time Liam had checked it. He turned back to the Grimm in its cage, it hadn't taken its eyes off him.

"Stop looking at me," He growled at the Grimm, his hand trailing over to the dial on his weapon's side, waiting for an excuse to turn it to red and bathe the bastard in a wash of flames. The alpha didn't even blink. He narrowed his eyes at the beast, fingers gripping the dial…

"You know it can't understand you, right?" The words broke the standoff between Liam and the Grimm, returning the man to reality. He eased his hand away from the dial, and looked over at the other faunus assigned to guard this alpha Grimm.

Although she wore the same uniform and mask as Liam, Sakura still looked out of place to the older White Fang member. She was a Vale local, having joined the White Fang only a few weeks ago during a rather eventful recruitment rally, if the rumors were to be believed. She was green as grass, all the recruits were, and with the Vale chapter effectively cut off from High Leader Khan at this point, Leader Taurus had turned to more traditional methods of training. Each of the new bloods was to be placed under the command of an experienced Fang member who would teach their charge everything they needed to know in order to further the White Fang's cause.

And Liam had just been unlucky enough to considered experienced enough to qualify.

It wasn't that he disliked the girl, Sakura was a quick learner and a firm believer in the cause. The problem was that wasn't all she was a believer in.

"It understands me, Sakura," He told the young dog-faunus, turning back to glare at the caged beast. "It understands we're what's keeping it from breaking out of there. It understands what the weapons in our hands can do to it. And it understands that we need it alive." As he said that last part, he swore the thing grinned at him.

"What makes you say that?" She asked, trying to hide her discomfort from him.

"Because the damned thing hasn't moved an inch since it woke up."

She didn't say anything back and a silence fell over the pair, punctuated by crickets, nocturnal animal cries, and the furious snarling of the other Grimm they had locked up in the camp. The noise reminded Liam of a dog kennel his mother had taken him to when he was a boy. He remembered how afraid he felt when the dogs started barking, how he could barely hear anything above their noise, how scared he was that they would break out of their cages and attack him.

They didn't of course, and Liam and his mother had left the kennel, happy with the dog they had picked out. A melancholic smile spread across his lips. He really missed Solly sometimes, she'd been a good dog.

His reminiscing was cut short when he heard Sakura whispering something. Liam almost didn't hear it through the Grimms' snarling and howling, but in the short breaks between their cries he could hear her muttering under her breathe.

His smile was replaced with a frown when realized what Sakura was doing. He moved over to the younger White Fang and smacked her arm, cutting off her mutterings. Not ten seconds later, a guard patrol passed by them, weapons at the ready and eyes on the caged Grimm. Liam waited until they were out of sight before he rounded on the girl. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What? A girl can't pray for protection when her partner freaks her out?" Snapped Sakura.

"She can't when the god she prays to calls for the genocide of her own fucking people!" He snarled back, baring his teeth at the girl.

He realized his mistake too late when Sakura didn't flinch away. "That's not true!" She hissed back at him. "The Emperor loves the faunus!"

Liam rolled his eyes behind his mask. "Sure, he does," He said, not even trying to hide his insincerity. "Why else would we have the honor of being humanity's scapegoat whenever something bad happens? Now shut up and watch the Grimm." He turned away from her before she could answer, not wanting to deal with any more of her religious bullshit.

She glared at him for a while longer before turning her attention back to the encaged Grimm. Liam bit back a sigh. Sakura wasn't alone in her worship of the God-Emperor, a surprising number of the other Vale recruits shared the girl's faith, much to everyone else's' disgust. Things never went too far between the two parties, but the tension in the camp had been almost palpable. Liam shuddered to think what might have happened if Leader Taurus hadn't sent the majority of those throne-worshipping freaks over to Mountain Glenn. Probably would have tried to burn everyone at the stake for being heretics, or something like that.

Still, they hadn't deserved what happened to them. They had been faunus like him, sure they were religious zealots, but they had joined the White Fang for the same reasons he and so many others had, to strike back against the humans who treated them like animals. They had believed in the righteousness of their cause, as much as they believed in their god-emperor. Even knowing how dangerous Mountain Glenn was they had left with their heads held high, ready to do their part and take their revenge against a government that had despised and hunted them for generations.

He couldn't help but admire that about them, even if they worshipped a god that hated their species.

"The Emperor doesn't hate us, Liam." Sakura blurted out, as if reading his mind. "He loves us, more than He loves the humans, and they know it. In the Emperor's eyes, we are the favored race on Remnant. That's why they lie about the Emperor hating the faunus, because they are jealous of us."

He almost didn't respond, but the way she spoke, the surety in her voice, it riled something inside him. "Then why doesn't he do something about it?" He snapped; eyes locked on to that damn grinning Grimm in front of them. "If the emperor loves us as much as you say he does, why doesn't he use his godly powers to wipe out the Grimm and humans for us? Drown them in a flood, or release a plague on them?"

"Why haven't your false gods done anything about them?" She quickly bit back, obviously familiar with his argument. "The Emperor _is_ helping us, Liam, in His own, subtle way. why else do you think we haven't been discovered yet?"

"Because everyone's too busy with the Vytal Festival to bother looking for a bunch of faunus hiding in the woods." A fact that Liam still found both incredible and insulting. The White Fang had breached Vale's entire defense grid, led a swarm of Grimm right into the heart of the city and what does the Council do? Have the Huntsmen and Atlas military deal with it, give general of said military a pat on the back for saving the day, go back to preparing for the Vytal Festival, and act like the whole thing didn't even happen.

Sure, that General Ironoak, or whatever his name was, was using his army to beef up security in the city, but only in the city. Any towns or villages on the outskirts of Vale's city limits were left alone, despite the fact that if another Grimm attack came, those settlements would be hit first.

Not that Council would care if it happened.

"No," Sakura responded, apparently not amused by his answer. "It is because the Emperor–"

A loud explosion cut off her monologue before it could start. Both faunus turned their heads back to the camp, where already a dark plume of smoke could be seen billowing into the night sky. Before either of them could do respond there was another explosion, followed by another, and another. It stopped after the seventh, but by then the fires had started to spread. Tents and supply crates burned while several unlucky faunus ran or lay face down in the dirt, their bodies awash with flames.

Desperate shouts and screams filled the night air as the White Fang scrambled to deal with the blaze overtaking their camp. Cries for help mixed with barked orders of officers and the roaring of the flames, meshing together into a desperate cacophony that Liam's instincts told him to run away from. He didn't.

The wolf-faunus ran toward the burning camp with Sakura close at his heels. The other faunus tasked with guarding the Grimm were also running toward the fire, their Dust-throwers primed and ready. Stopping in front of a burning tent, Liam leveled the muzzle of his weapon at the flames and pulled the trigger. A miniaturized blizzard spewed forth, freezing wind and ice crystals meeting the raging fire with the hissing clash of opposing elements. The flames danced wildly in defiance of the cold, but were ultimately subdued. Liam didn't stop to admire his handiwork however and moved fast to put out another fire. Steam replaced smoke as the fires were drowned in subzero temperatures and ice particles and calm seemed to have finally returned.

That was when the howling started, followed by the one thing nobody on Remnant ever wants to hear.

"GRIMM INCOMING!"

They came in from the surrounding forest on all sides, barreling forward at full speed, and were inside the camp before anyone could blink. Sounds of combat quickly filled the air as the White Fang fought to repel the assault. Liam cursed as he turned the dial on his Dust-thrower to yellow and swung it around to bathe a charging ursa in angry forks of lightning. The monster's body locked up, causing it to trip and tumble onto the ground as its nervous system was flooded with lethal amounts of electricity. It convulsed violently as it died, muscles spasming uncontrollably even as it evaporated into nothingness.

"Sakura!" Liam cried out, "Head over to the north end of camp and provide support. I'll hold things down here –AGH?!"

The wolf faunus let out a bark of surprise as he was sent sprawling to the ground from an unseen blow to the head. His skull throbbed with pain and his vision was swimming, but he wasn't about to let that stop him. With a groan he dragged himself to his knees, hand pressed against his temple to try and alleviate the pain. That was when he noticed something, laying there on the ground. At first, Liam couldn't make out anything about other than its vaguely round shape, but after a moment to allow his vision to clear, he could see-

He fell backwards with a horrified gasp at the sight of Sakura's severed head. The girl's mask was gone, and sky-blue eyes stared up at Liam unobstructed with a look of pure surprise. Liam stared back, expression mirroring her own.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that, gaping like a dying fish, but it was evidently for too long. The steady thud of heavy steps and a bone-chilling growl broke Liam from his stupor. He should have gone for his Dust-thrower, he should have picked the weapon up and bathed whatever was stalking in a torrent of electricity. He should have, but he didn't.

Instead, he turned around and instantly froze. The large beowolf Alpha halted its stride a just few yards from where the faunus lay, burning red eyes studying him with malicious intent. Neither moved for what felt like an eternity, locked in some unseen battle of wills.

Then it grinned at him.

And the last thing Liam saw before his world fell into darkness was the Alpha lunging at him with its jaws wide open.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

Half a mile away, nestled in the branches of a large tree and draped in the color bending weave of his cameleoline cloak, Yole watched through the lenses of his magnoculars as the abhuman camp fall into chaos. The tree was located on the side of one of the region's many mountains, providing the Inquisitorial agent with a perfect view of the valley, and White Fang camp, below.

He would give them this, they had chosen their campsite well. It was isolated and well hidden, far enough from Vale that they wouldn't draw any unwanted attention but close enough for their Bullhead transports to reach the city within minutes. It was large too. Yole wagered there had to be at least three hundred, maybe five hundred, fighters down there. As the Grimm continued to pour in however, he wondered how many would be left come dawn.

It hadn't been too hard for the Inquisitorial agent to locate the camp. Though the majority of the White Fang had abandoned Vale in the wake of the failed Grimm Breach several weeks ago, a few had remained to guard key safehouses and dispose of sensitive information. It had been child's play for Yole to track down one of these guards and 'persuade' him to share what he knew with the Inquisitorial agent.

Infiltrating the camp had been even less of an issue, much to his chagrin. Getting past the sentries had been entertaining enough, thanks largely to their night vision, but after that it was disappointingly smooth. Camouflaged in the uniform of the now long dead safehouse guard, no one suspected his true nature. Many of the faunus he passed by just acknowledged him with a glance or curt greeting while others were too engrossed in other matters to care. The irony of it all wasn't lost on him.

He headed for their airfield first, though calling it that was being generous. The patch of red grass was occupied by the idle forms of over a dozen Bullhead transports. They were plain, unassuming craft with light armor and weapons but also powerful engines and surprising maneuverability. Bullheads were also highly customizable and cheap to produce, making them a common sight in Remnant's commercial and private sectors. This also made them perfect dropships for paramilitary groups like the White Fang.

Yole got to work immediately. He worked with a subtlety born from decades of subterfuge and espionage, planting explosive on as many Bullheads as he could. He fixed most of the charges to the cockpits or wings, ensuring they inflicted the most damage. A few he even managed to plant inside the dropships. Unfortunately, Yole only had a limited number of charges with him and the airfield wasn't his only target. With one charge left and over half the Bullheads primed to explode, he headed for the camp's armory.

On his way there Yole took note of several White Fang personnel that stood out from the rest. They wore unique masks and highly customized versions of the standard White Fang uniform. They were also armed with the strange "mechashift" weapons so common among Remnant's elite warrior caste, despite their impracticality. They were most likely officers or special forces of some kind, given their heavily personalized equipment and dress. Extreme caution would need to be exercised in dealing with them.

It took him a bit longer than he would have liked to locate the armory tent, but when he did Yole found it even less guarded than the airfield with only a single guard standing at the entrance. It was almost embarrassing how easy it was for him to get inside, a quick lie about a Grimm eating his weapon and he was in. The moment the guard turned her back Yole had honestly considered killing her. Her death would reveal the presence of an infiltrator in the camp, putting everyone on high alert and forcing him to put in some real Emperor-damned effort!

He did consider it, he really did, but knew it ultimately wasn't worth it. The mission's success took precedence over his own desires. With a quiet sigh of resignation, Yole stepped into the armory tent, planted his last explosive charge inside a crate of red Dust crystals, picked up a spare rifle resting on a weapon's rack, and left. Though he was very tempted to shoot the guard when she called out, "try not to lose that one, rookie!"

She was nothing but a charred corpse now, much to the infiltrator's satisfaction.

With the last of the charges set Yole left the camp, his mission complete. On his way out he spotted what had to be the command tent. It was much larger than the hab-tents and heavily decorated with White Fang iconography. The four heavily armed guards standing outside were also somewhat of a giveaway. Curious, and not one to give up on valuable information, the Imperial agent changed his course to take him behind the command tent. He moved carefully, not wanting to arouse suspicion from the guards or any other White Fang nearby as he strained his ears to listen in on whatever was being discussed inside.

He heard eager voices behind the canvas wall, restless and ready. They spoke of attacking early, without the aid of their… benefactor? That had been Interesting. A man spoke, his voice softer yet stronger than the rest, advising patience and promising glory in the attack yet to come. A zealot if he had ever heard one. Yole backed away from the tent soon after that, content with what he had learned. He could have stayed longer, maybe even steal a few vital documents while their backs were turned, but doing so would risk jeopardizing this whole outing of his.

And while the inherent challenge of a time limit excited Yole greatly, he once more pushed those desires aside in favor of the bigger picture. He was a professional, after all.

Yole left the camp as easily as he had entered it, sneaking past the patrolling sentries with a feline's grace as he made his way to the tree he was now perched upon. He had stashed much of his equipment here prior to entering the camp, including the detonator for the bombs. A risk to be sure, but one he felt he had to take if he wanted this to feel like an actual mission and not a chore.

Regardless, whether it felt like a mission or a chore, the results spoke for themselves

With over half their transports destroyed, nearly their entire stockpile of weapons and ammunition up in flames, and the Grimm bearing down on them like a mob of battle-starved Orks, the White Fang were all but removed from the Vale theatre. Even if their mysterious benefactor managed to resupply them with new weapons and vehicles, such things were useless without soldiers to wield them.

Minutes passed slowly as the fighting dragged on. However, now that the initial shock of the attack had worn off, Yole noted with some confusion that the Grimm were inflicting fewer causalities than he'd anticipated. Through the green-lit lenses of his magnoculars, Yole saw faunus shrug off what should have been fatal blows. One of the abhumans, their features blurred by distance, was sent flying back by the swing of a beowolf's claws. The attack should have disemboweled them, instead, the abhuman scrambled back to their feet, unharmed save for a shredded uniform.

Goosebumps ran across Yole's skin as understanding dawned on him and he hissed out a curse. Aura. He'd forgotten to take Aura into account. The supernatural ability that allowed the denizens of this backwater rock to manipulate their own souls to achieve superhuman feats like shrugging off direct hits from a rifle or the eviscerating claws of the local fauna. And he, an agent of the God-Emperor's Throne-damned Inquisition, had _forgotten_ to account for its use among a group of abhuman insurgents.

He was never going to live this down if Yuria found out.

Still, even if they suffered fewer casualties than he'd have liked, the White Fang were no longer an immediate threat, not that they really had been to start with. What had they hoped to achieve by attacking a heavily defended city with only a few hundred soldiers? Perhaps they had planned on using their captured Grimm as distractions, luring the defenders away from key targets in the city and allow the White Fang to slip through unnoticed. Maybe it wasn't Vale that was their target, but the local Huntsman Schola, Beacon. Maybe their plan had been to strike the Schola during the Festival and slaughter the progena inside as a way to show themselves superior to the over-glorified mercenaries of this world.

Or maybe, like the daemons whose likeness they wear, they just wanted a chance to kill humans.

It didn't matter now. After tonight, only two options were left to the White Fang: either they relocate to a more secure location and continue preparing or they abandon their plans to attack Vale and evacuate. Honestly, it really wasn't much of a choice. If their hatred for humanity hasn't blinded them beyond all reason, they would cut their losses and leave the Kingdom. To stay would be suicide, not martyrdom, serving only to strengthen the image of the faunus as little more than rabid animals.

 _If_ they were sensible, but everything he had seen and heard inside the camp supported the contrary. The abhumans in that camp were zealots, they wanted a fight. In their minds, _they_ were the victims in all of this. All the deaths they would cause, all the misery they would bring, none of it would their fault. It would be humanity's fault, because they pushed the White Fang to become the monsters they now were.

A child's argument, and one they would never get to make.

As the fighting died down and the last of the Grimm were dealt with, Yole pulled out his Scroll and dialed the contact number for Vale's law enforcers. "Hello this is the Vale Police Department, what is your emergency?"

"I need to get in contact with the Atlas fleet immediately!" Yole demanded in a panicked, hushed voice. "I have information about the White Fang!"

"Sir, I need you to calm down," The woman instructed, sounding more attentive with the mention of the White Fang. "Can you tell me what you mean by–"

Yole cut her off with a snarl. "There's no time! You need to tell General Ironwood: The White Fang are in Forever Falls, northwestern sector. My name is Stanley Flynt, I'm a Huntsman. My license number is 785216, but you need–AGh!" pair of gunshots loudly interrupted Yole as he fired in to the air with the stolen Dust rifle. "They've found me! P-please, don't let them–" another, final gunshot "silenced" Yole.

"Hello? Hello!? Sir, are you still there!? Are you alright!?" Yole didn't answer. He waited a few seconds before terminating the call, once he heard the woman call out for someone to contact the Atlas fleet. Pocketing his Scroll away, Yole climbed down from his perch and collected his gear. While the fighting down in the camp may have ensured none of the abhumans heard those gunshots the same could not be said for the Grimm. Once everything was secured Yole disappeared into the forest, satisfied with how well his plan had played out.

Meanwhile, miles away in Vale, the VPD scrambled to convey Stanley Flynt's discovery to their Atlesian allies. When the information reached General Iroonwood, he ordered a scouting party sent to Forever Falls, and when they radioed back with confirmation of the White Fang's presence the General did not hesitate. Ironwood personally led a third of his fleet to Forever Falls, determined to eliminate the White Fang threat to Vale once and for all.

They arrived to find the White Fang camp already in ruins, just as the scouts had reported. Rather than question the current state of his enemy, the General chalked it up to the Grimm and gave the order for his forces to engage. The sky lit up as the Atlesian warships and their escorts bombarded the White Fang's position with extreme prejudice. Heavy chainguns and Dust autocannons lit up the night sky with tracer lights as the camp below was blasted into oblivion. A few faunus managed to escape past the tree line before the guns opened up, but the rest weren't so lucky. Explosions and screams echoed through the air. Body parts were blown off and sent flying. It felt as if they were caught in the middle of the end of the world.

Then the guns went quiet. And the Knights were deployed.

Dropping into the camp with the subtlety of a brick tossed at window, the Atlesian Knights began searching for survivors immediately. With emotionless efficiency the machine soldiers of Atlas tracked down the remaining faunus, capturing any they could find that surrendered or were incapable of posing a threat. The rest were eliminated without mercy.

When the General and his men returned to Vale the next day, and the news of his victory over the White Fang was made public, the whole city seemed to let out a sigh of relief. For months, the people of Vale had been living in fear as criminals and terrorists ran rampant through their streets, helpless to do anything but run and hide. But thanks to the Atlas military, that wasn't the case anymore. Now, a man could once again walk the streets of Vale at night without fear of being assaulted by masked madmen. Dust store owners would no longer have to worry about their entire stock being stolen. People could look forward to Vytal Festival as the celebration it was and not as the distraction it provided.

Finally, life in Vale could return to normal.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

"All hail the conquering hero," muttered the headmaster of Beacon Academy as he looked out at the city he had once ruled, and the foreign warships looming over it. The quote was old and despite the many lives he had lived, Ozpin could not quite remember where he had heard it. Still, it was a fitting one.

"He's certainly not adverse to the title," agreed his assistant and confidante as she skimmed through the dozens of news channels already reporting on James' success. She let out a sigh that turned into a yawn as she read the title link of a particularly colorful news article. "They're acting like we just won a war."

If only that were the case, Ozpin thought to himself.

For the people of Vale, it might as well be. The White Fang and Roman Torchwick had been a scourge upon this city for months, spreading chaos and devastating the economy. Now, the latter was locked up inside James' ship and the former had been annihilated by James' army. It had _felt_ like a war, it _was_ a war, but what the news reporters and journalists did not know was that it was far from won. It wasn't their fault, of course, and truthfully, it was better this way. Rather happy ignorance than terrifying reality.

James had no such excuse, however. He was aware of the true threat they all faced, yet he still insisted on rushing in, guns blazing. The White Fang had taken great pains to disappear from Vale in the wake of the Breach, and yet a lone Huntsman managed to find their hidden base and call it in? It had reeked of a trap and Ozpin had told James as much when he contacted the Beacon Headmaster with the news last night.

Ozpin had implored his friend to wait and consider the bigger picture, but James would not be dissuaded from his decision. He rejected Ozpin's advice, stating they did not have the luxury of waiting and that inaction was exactly what she wanted from them. Before he cut the link, James then assured Ozpin that he would be ready for any tricks the White Fang had up their sleeves, completely ignoring the fact that it wasn't the White Fang that Ozpin was concerned about.

And as the general of Atlas's army charged headfirst into the manticore's jaws, the headmaster of Beacon Academy prepared for the worst. The school's automated defense systems were brought online, stirring life into the many turrets and hardlight shield projectors hidden all over Beacon. Ozpin alerted Glynda to the situation, rudely waking the disciplinarian from her slumber and demanding her immediate presence. He considered waking the other professors, but knew that doing so would raise questions among his staff, questions that he could not answer.

He appraised Glynda of the situation when she arrived, ignoring her disheveled appearance. He resisted the urge to sigh when she questioned his decision to activate Beacon's defenses, acting like he was overreacting. Instead, Ozpin waved her doubts aside, attributing them to her interrupted sleep. The glare he felt boring into the back of his skull enforced this belief. Ozpin chose to ignore it, keeping his focus on the city nestled safely beneath his school.

Everything was set. Beacon was ready. All he could do now was wait.

And so, Ozpin waited.

He waited for James' ships to never return, for that final panicked transmission of warning. He waited for the White Fang to soar over the horizon in a fleet of gunships, unleashing death and destruction upon the city he had once ruled. He waited for Salem to finally make her move.

But the move never came.

When dawn broke over the city, it was not an enemy fleet or a swarm of Grimm that approached Vale, but the general and his forces returning from their successful mission. Shock and relief had warred within Ozpin as he watched James' ships resume their positions in his fleet, only to be buried by questions and suspicions. What had happened out there? How had he defeated the White Fang? Did he learn anything from their camp? All these questions and more filled Ozpin's thoughts, while Glynda took the liberty to deactivate the defense systems before any of the students could wake up.

Ozpin had resisted the urge to grab his Scroll and call James. If he did that, he would only further embolden his military friend. Instead, Ozpin waited for James to contact him. Despite the power he had been granted by the Council, James was not above Beacon's Headmaster. By having him reach out first it would help maintain that relationship of leader and lieutenant. At least, he hoped it would.

When James finally reached out, several hours had passed. Under Ozpin's request, Glynda spent the time until then analyzing the situation in hopes of better understanding how and why this had come to pass, and if the unease he felt was justified. What she found was rather… concerning.

A green light flashed on the corner of his desk accompanied by a soft chime that alerted Ozpin to an incoming call. Knowing who it was, the headmaster took his seat and pressed the accept key. A holographic screen came to life just above his desk with the face of the Atlas General framed within. Ozpin had expected James to be proud, his expression one of triumph as he boasted to the two Beacon professors of his victory over the White Fang. It stood to reason, he had been adamant about taking action against them, after all.

And yet, when James appeared on his screen, he looked just as troubled as Ozpin felt.

"General," Ozpin greeted, keeping his voice calm and level.

"Ozpin," James tried to copy his tone, but his centuries of experience allowed Ozpin to pick out hints of worry and wounded pride from just the utterance of his name. Interesting. James then nodded his head toward Glynda. "Glynda."

The assistant Headmistress narrowed her eyes at the general. "So kind of you to finally contact us, General," she replied, her words laced with venom from her lack of sleep. "I hope we aren't taking time away from your interview preparations."

James merely bowed his head in concession, "I apologize, but I believed it prudent that the people of Vale hear some good news before the Festival starts." He looked back to Ozpin. "They need it after everything that's happened."

The Headmaster of Beacon raised an eyebrow at his friend, but nodded in agreement. Despite his reservations, the boost in morale this would cause could not be ignored. While Torchwick's crime spree had been a serious problem, it was not until the White Fang became involved that things became notably worse. The number of Grimm attacks along Vale's borders have been rising ever since news of their involvement was made public, forcing many outlying towns and villages to hire Huntsmen for protection. Few licensed Huntsmen were left in Vale, the rest were all practicing their trade, leaving a foreign army and a school of inexperienced children as the city's only defense.

But with the White Fang now gone, there was hope that that would change. Still… "What happened out there, James?"

James was quiet for a moment. "Nothing." He finally answered. "The White Fang were caught completely off guard by our attack. We bombarded their camp and sent in Knights to apprehend any survivors. There was next to no resistance from the enemy and my men suffered zero casualties."

Ozpin frowned behind his steepled hands. Use of overwhelming force was among James' favorite tactics and had proven its effectiveness against Grimm hordes many times in the past. A victory claimed through such means, especially against one of her pawns, should have vindicated the general. Instead, he sounded – to borrow one of Qrow's phrases – like he just found out he got played and didn't want to admit it.

"Were you hoping for a different outcome?" Glynda asked, picking up on the General's mood.

"I was expecting a camp full of heavily armed terrorists," James snapped, not appreciating Glynda's insinuations. "Instead, I found this," Several images flashed onto the holographic screen, depicting a scene of carnage. Wrecked Bullheads lay smoldering in what looked like an impromptu airfield. Burned down tents and destroyed prefabricated structures outnumbered those still intact. Broken cages and rows of small, blanket covered mounds that Ozpin instantly realized were laid out corpses yet to be buried. It was like something taken straight from the battlefields of the Great War.

"These were taken _before_ I ordered the bombardment of the camp," James said, his brow furrowing as he inspected the pictures himself for what could not be the first time. "Interrogation of White Fang prisoners and postliminary analysis of the campsite confirmed that the White Fang had been attacked prior to our arrival."

Ozpin frowned, unsure of what to make of this information. His first instinct was to blame the Grimm, but that didn't seem right. The majority of the vehicles had been destroyed by explosives, not torn apart by Grimm claws. His mind instantly went to Salem and her agents next, but that too didn't feel right. Salem was no stranger to abandoning her minions when they could no longer be of use to her, but only after making sure they could pose no threat to her or her plans. This didn't feel like that however, it was too… direct.

"Do you have any leads on who or what was behind this?" Ozpin asked, wanting to hear his friend's own thoughts.

"Yes and no," James answered. "We know from the prisoners that the Creatures of Grimm launched an attack on the camp just a few hours before we arrived. They believe they were drawn in by the panic."

"Panic?" Repeated Glynda, her normally stern expression giving way to concern.

James nodded. "Before the Grimm attacked, a number of explosions went off in the camp. From what we've gathered, most of the initial damage was focused on their airfield and armory. The detonation within the armory caused a chain reaction by detonating the Dust housed inside it, leading to the rest of the camp being set ablaze. And as the White Fang scrambled to put out these fires, the Grimm struck."

"Ensuring that when you arrived, you'd find an already beaten enemy, incapable of fighting back." Ozpin watched his old colleague's jaw clench at his words. It was not difficult to figure out why. "Well done, James."

The genuine sincerity within his voice caused James to blink and Glynda to whip her head toward the headmaster, a questioning expression on both their faces. "Thanks to your efforts, the White Fang have been pushed out of Vale and the people can once again walk the streets without fear." As he spoke, Ozpin rose from his desk and walked over to the massive window that overlooked Vale. He gazed out at the city that once belonged to him, back to his two comrades. "I'll see what I can do about having the Council award you with a medal. It's the least I can do."

"A med- Ozpin, what?!"

"Didn't you hear what he said?!"

They reacted in a rather predictable manner.

"I am fully aware of what the General is implying, Glynda," He said with calm seriousness, his eyes fixed on the city. "And believe me, I share your concerns. But this unknown party, this new player in our game has shown himself to be both cunning and ruthless. We do not know his capabilities or his motivations. We have no idea if he is only one man or three, or if he is aware of the True Enemy. All we do know is that he is no friend to the White Fang and is, at best, wary of us." Ozpin let out a quiet sigh before turning around and fixing his two friends with a grim expression. "We must tread carefully, but do not forget who the True Enemy is. Understand?"

They hesitated for a moment before giving their assent. "Excellent. Oh, and before I forget, James, Glynda has something for you." The sudden shift in tone seemed to stun the two, and Ozpin smiled for their benefit. "During your little excursion, we did a bit of detective work and found a few things that you'll no doubt find useful. I'll have her send it over to you later today."

Glynda blinked, no doubt remembering the hours of investigation work the two had subjected themselves to during the General's absence. Her fingers danced across the screen of her Scroll as she prepared the files for him.

"Stay vigilant, James. Whether I like it or not, you and your army are our best defense right now. Keep my city safe."

James visibly straightened at his words, "My men will do their duty."

"See that they do." He bid the General farewell, turning to Glynda as the holographic screen blinked out of existence. He looked at her with a mischievous smile. "Why don't you let Port take over your classes for today? You look exhausted."

Glynda glared at the headmaster, but chose not rebuke him as she walked to the elevator, fingers still dancing across her Scroll. Once the doors closed behind her, Ozpin dropped the smile and turned back to the window. His reflection greeted him. Though he was nowhere near as disheveled as Glynda, his own fatigue was glaringly obvious. Dark circles ringed his eyes and a coarse field of stubble had sprouted along his chin and upper lip. He needed rest himself it seemed.

Later, though.

There was still work to be done.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

The clash of steel on steel echoed through the private training chamber as the specialist dueled her opponent. Sweat caked her body and stained her blue-white training clothes, and her breathing was loud and heavy. Her limbs ached for rest, but she ignored it as she made to thrust at her opponent once again.

The machine across from her reacted perfectly to her attack. As she closed in, it raised its own weapon to deflect her thrust while effortlessly sidestepping to avoid her follow up attack with her parry dagger. It moved to go on the offensive, but the specialist did not relent. She ducked underneath its swing and swept her right leg out, displacing its footing. The machine staggered, but would not remain so for long. Muscles screaming, she brought her saber about to slash it across the machine's metal chassis.

It had anticipated this however. Just as the blade was about to make contact, the machine reacted. It pushed itself away, using the momentum of its stumbling to dodge her strike. Out of immediate harm, the machine regained its balance and retaliated with a forward thrust. The specialist dodged to the right, falling into the machine's feint. The blade's trajectory changed mid thrust, the mechanical limb holding it rotating on its elbow joint to intercept the specialist. The motion was unnatural, and would have seen her opponent's arm snapped off, had it been human.

The specialist brought up her dagger to deflect the blow, grunting from the effort it required. A split-second opening was made in its defense and she swung her saber upwards in a bisecting arc. The screech metal cutting through metal echoed through the chamber as a long gash was added to the machine's already damaged torso frame.

Despite the size and look of the new rent, the damage was mostly superficial and easily repaired. However, it was enough for the purposes of her training. A low, humming chime echoed through the chamber and a green light buzzed on a nearby scoreboard displaying both the specialist and her robotic foe. Following this, a synthetic feminine voice announced: "Winner: Winter Schnee."

A sigh escaped Winter's lips, much louder than she would have preferred. At the declaration of victory, Winter's mechanical opponent, a more advanced model of Atlas' Tutorial-class sparring robot, went into standby mode. She made to activate it for another bout, but paused when she saw the damage that she had inflicted on it.

Rents, dents, and slashes marred the robot's armored frame like geographic features on a map. Tutorial bots could take a serious amount of punishment, they were designed to challenge Huntsmen after all, but there was a limit to what they could take. Their programming was also very basic when compared to the Knights. Still, they served their purpose well enough, this one more than most.

Winter placed her dagger back in her saber and walked over to a nearby bench where a bottle of water and a fresh towel awaited her. As she wiped her face clean of sweat, she heard the door open behind her. She turned to see a junior officer standing in the doorway, an active Scroll in her hands.

The officer saluted sharply, and despite the ache in her muscles, Winter returned it. "At ease." She said, trying not to sound too out of breath.

The junior officer lowered her arm, but remained at attention. Winter approved of this. "Sir, orders from General Ironwood," she reported without prompting, holding out the Scroll for Winter to take.

Her fatigue was forgotten momentarily as she took the device, scanning through its contents. When she finished, she looked up at the junior officer, ice-blue eyes meeting emerald green. "See to it that my ship is fueled and my crew ready is ready for departure."

The officer saluted again and turned sharply, her braided white hair nearly slapping Winter in the face. She frowned as the woman left, but quickly returned her attention to the Scroll in her hands. Her orders fairly simple: accompany the 31st Atlas heavy-infantry regiment as they are transported to Vale while ensuring the safety of the two companies of Paladin battle-mechs they had with them. Upon arrival in Vale, Winter would then report to General Ironwood for further orders.

Winter blinked.

An _entire_ regiment? Along with two full companies of Paladins?

Even to her, that seemed somewhat like overkill, especially given recent events. When word of the General's victory over the White Fang first reached Atlas there was much celebrating. That rabble of murderers and terrorists had always harbored a special hatred for the people of Atlas, and many had lost friends and loved ones to their cowardly attacks, Winter included. The news of the White Fang's was vindicating, in more ways than one.

Ever since Mantle had become Atlas, the other Kingdoms had viewed their northern counterparts with vailed disdain. They saw Atlas' standing army as an unnecessary reminder of the Great War, when the Kingdoms fought one another for foolish reasons. "What use is an army in a time of peace", they would say or, "the Huntsmen will protect us". And whenever Atlas countered these statements with facts and hard truths, Vale, Vacuo, and Mantle would scoff and call them paranoid.

Yet when Vale was breached and the Grimm flooded the city, who was it that came to the people's rescue? Who pushed back the Grimm and saved countless lives? Who tracked down and eliminated the criminals plaguing Vale for the better part of a year?

The Atlas military did!

By Atlesian sweat and blood, Vale and its people were made safe. And by Atlesian sweat and blood would it be kept safe, until the Vytal Festival came to an end.

Still, Winter could not understand why General Ironwood would need a whole regiment and two armored companies. The threat to Vale was neutralized, the remaining White Fang were either captured or fled into the wilderness, the city was safe. So then why?

Winter pushed these treacherous thoughts aside. It was unbecoming of her to question her superior, nor was it her place to. The General always did things for a reason, and this was no exception. She trusted in his judgement and follow his orders, regardless of her own misgivings.

Besides, they had yet to confirm if the camp General Ironwood destroyed was the only one the White Fang had. For all they knew, there could be dozens of camps, scattered all throughout wilderness. If such was the case, then these reinforcements would be necessary in deterring any overly zealous faunus from seeking retribution against Vale.

And even if that wasn't the case… one could never really be too careful on Remnant.

Winter closed the Scroll and set it aside on the bench before grabbing her saber and towel and heading for the showers. As Winter made her way to the women's locker-room, her thoughts shifted to Weiss. Her younger sister was currently enrolled in Beacon Academy, much to their father's chagrin. He had wanted her to attend Atlas, as had Winter, if she was being honest. It would have been safer for her.

Despite that, Weiss seemed to be doing well in Beacon. The letters she sent Winter each week spoke of a growth in both skill and character that made the older sister proud. Yes, it would be good to see Weiss again, to see how far she has come since leaving home, to hear how she was doing in a foreign Kingdom. A smile began to form on Winter's lips as the specialist's thoughts shifted from military matters to her sister and all the things they would discuss.

Perhaps that was why she didn't notice the smell coming from a nearby heating vent.

* * *

 **~o0o~**

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sooooo….. Yeah, sorry this took so long. Was working on Grimm Heir for a while, then I sort of just lost the urge to write. Been having that problem a lot lately, ever since I graduated from college. Weird, huh?**

 **Also, yes, I have made significant edits to previous chapters. They've been bugging me for months and I knew I could do better, so I went back and edited them. Actually, posted the edited versions on SpaceBattles first and was holding off here because I didn't want to post a notice… and then I didn't update for like 3 months…. So yeah… sorry about that….**

 **By the way, if anyone has listened or read "Throne of Lies" (And if you haven't you should, its great) that short story was a big inspiration for a significant part of the last scene.**

 **As Always: Please, Fav, Follow, and Review! Thank You!**

 **DeadRich18 Out!**


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